


Monster

by Shiina23



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Captive, Dominant Male, Eventual Romance, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Murder Mystery, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Stockholm Syndrome, Submissive Female, Yandere, Yandere Male
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiina23/pseuds/Shiina23
Summary: Just after Greta's betrayal, a kind stranger stumbles upon Heelshire Manor, unaware of what's to take place.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> Please enjoy this work of mine. Let me know of any errors or anything of the sort, good or bad, and I will do my best to fix them :D  
> Why did I choose to write about Brahms? Well, I watched the movie recently and actually felt really heartbroken at the ending scene, so I decided to do my own thing! Hahahaha. Let's see where this story takes us. I will do my best to update at least once a week, but life tends to get in the way so if I haven't uploaded in a while, hopefully you guys will understand :)

Lying on the cold wooden floor, Brahms sucked in air as the pain from the screwdriver spread through his abdomen like wildfire. He could already feel the warmth of his blood seeping through his clothes and desperately drew another breath as he heard Greta drag Malcolm into the car and drive off. She had abandoned him. Just like the others. He tried everything, even threatening her, but she still ran away. Even after he helped her.  
_I should have known. How utterly naïve of me._  
He angled his head back, taking in the pieces of his now broken mask scattered across the floor. That simple movement made pain shoot through his entire body and he let out a groan before passing out.

**~~~ A few hours later ~~~**

Rain hammered against the windows and wind whipped around outside. Brahms woke with a start, drenched in sweat. Pain seared through his side and memories came flooding back. The screwdriver was still embedded in his abdomen. Gingerly, he moved and propped himself against the wall, sweat beading his brow. Looking down, he examined his wound. The bleeding seemed to have stopped for now so he slowly stood, darkness beginning to cloud his vision. Bracing himself against the wall, he stumbled into the bathroom and looked at the mirror.

A monster stared back at him. 

Half of his face was still covered by the broken mask – not that it did much good. It failed to hide his damaged, twisted flesh. _Ugly. You’re hideous. A terrible beast. You thought she would stay with someone as hideous as you? You fool!_ He snarled at the mirror and ripped of the mask before hurling it to the floor, the sudden rage masking any pain the action caused. Once the adrenaline ebbed, he was once again reminded of the wound, panting heavily at its onslaught. He stared at the broken pieces as he tried to control his breathing. _Need to remove my clothes._

His gaze scoured the bathroom for anything that might help cut through the fabric. He opened the vanity and found a small pair of scissors along with a first aid kit. _That would do._ Brahms painstakingly cut through the fabric. 10 minutes later, he was standing before the sink, shirtless and sweating. Dirt streaked across his skin and sweat pearled on the hairs of his chest. He needed to clean himself before seeing to the wound, otherwise it might get infected. After filling the sink with warm soapy water, he gave himself a makeshift sponge bath with a towel he grabbed from the rail and examined himself once again in the mirror. 

His eyes were nearly black with rage. _Monster._

Brahms gave a self-deprecating laugh and slowly made his way to his dad’s study. It was where he kept some alcohol – a good disinfectant and a drink to douse his sorrows. He grabbed a whiskey and traipsed back to the bathroom.  
Wrapping some tissue around the wound, he circled it around its entrance and applied pressure with one hand. With the other, he grasped the handle of the screwdriver and braced himself for the pain. He yanked the handle and it dislodged from his front. Brahms groaned in agony before dropping the offending tool to the floor and applying more pressure to the wound – it had begun to bleed profusely. Carefully removing the tissue, he poured some of the alcohol onto the wound. It stung and he let out a pained gasp before drying the wound, applying some antibiotic cream and sealing it with some gauze. 

After downing some of the whiskey, he dragged himself to the bedroom, _her bedroom_ , and let the darkness consume him.

**~~~ Meanwhile ~~~**

Sarah grimaced and braced herself against the onslaught of the rain, her tiny umbrella no match for the torrent and the wind. It was obviously night and she, a lone female, was dragging a suitcase down a barely lit road.  
“I should have grabbed that map goddammit,” she muttered to herself in anger. She was usually prepared for most scenarios, but her current streak of bad luck said otherwise. Folding the umbrella and zipping it up in her backpack, she embraced the rain and trudged forward grudgingly. Her feet hurt, her knees hurt and she was soaked to the bone. She could barely see with the raindrops clinging to her glasses which made her antsy. A faint engine sound echoed through the night.  
_Huh? What was that?_

She narrowed her eyes to take a closer look. A few meters in front of her a car pulled out of a driveway and sped down the road, away from her. _Where there’s a driveway, there’s a house._  
Excited at the prospect of getting shelter from the weather, she hurried down the street, her feet screaming in protest. Large wrought iron gates loomed in front of her. It was left open. _Strange. Maybe that person was in a hurry._ Unease pooled in the center of her chest but she ignored it and pushed forward, the need to escape the elements overpowering her growing apprehension. Practically running across the driveway with her suitcase in tow, she clambered up the steps and knocked on the front door. It swung open quietly, but there was no one inside. _Maybe they forgot to lock the door…_ She frowned as her heart rate sped up, but called out, “Hello?” 

No answer.  
Again. Maybe louder this time. It’s a massive house. “HELLO?” It echoed through the halls, but again, there was no answer. She hesitantly took a step forward, one foot through the front entrance. Sarah looked over her shoulder into the night. At the same time, lighting flashed through the skies and thunder sounded in the skies above. She yelped in fright in jumped into the house, slamming the front door behind her. Sarah frantically scanned the inside of the manor, eyes narrowing as she struggled to see past the raindrops on her lenses. Her ears strained for any sounds of someone being here. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.  
Kneeling, she opened her suitcase and grabbed the nearest clothes item to wipe her glasses before propping them back on her face. Perfect. She could now pick out the finer details of her surroundings. The house was dimly lit, filled with dark wood furniture, the kind that you see in a wealthy English family’s house, with large rooms and classical looking decor. Although the house screamed wealth, it held a gloomy atmosphere. She frowned and took a step forward. “HELLO? ANYBODY HOME?” A streak of lightning was the only response she received. 

Leaving her suitcase near the front door, she slowly walked forward into the first room she saw.


	2. Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 uploads in a day? Impossibru! Just a small treat for you guys :)

Brahms growled in frustration. He had just fallen asleep when he heard the front door slamming shut. Intruders? Possibly. It’s not like she would return.  
Carefully, he rolled out of bed and silently walked to the corridor. Eyes narrowed, he watched as a young woman took in her surroundings, a red suitcase next to her on the floor. Taller than the average female, with dark brown hair that reached her shoulders and large black rimmed glasses that framed dark eyes. Black or brown, he couldn’t tell, not from this distance anyway. She was soaked, leaving a small puddle on the floor beneath her as she stepped forward. He winced as she yelled announcing her presence.  
His eyes widened with interest when he saw what room she headed into. Slowly, he made his way to the front door, and quietly locked it before pocketing the key. 

A strangled scream sounded through the house. Clever girl. She had stifled it the best she could so as not to alert the possible murderer. Footsteps hurried towards him and he took a deep breath in preparation for what’s to come. 

**~**

Sarah felt her breathing stop when she saw the body on the floor. A tall, bearded, rough looking man was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, a shard of something sticking out of his neck. She muffled her scream as best as she could, eyes darting around in panic. A porcelain doll, lay on the floor, shards of its broken head scattered around it. She turned and hurried towards the front door, trying to keep her footsteps quiet so that she could remain undetected. Sarah stopped when she saw what was next to her suitcase and felt her eyes widen. 

A tall dark haired man, leanly muscled wearing nothing but black pants that hung low on his hips, stood in front of her exit. His face was burned, the skin twisted and uneven, and he had a beard. His facial hair extended down his neck, covering his chest and trailing down his abdomen before disappearing into his waistband. _His stomach. He’s hurt._ She couldn’t stop staring at his wound. Her eyes darted up to his face in terror when she realised he was slowly inching forward.

_RUN._  
Sarah sprang into action, whipping around and sprinting away from him. She heard a growl not too far behind her that made her blood turn cold. Inhuman. _He sounds like a monster. He looks like a monster._ Tears streamed down her face. She had never felt terror like this before. He definitely killed that man. 

Her wet shoes slipped on the wooden floors and she fell, landing on her side. Dazed, she whimpered in pain. _GET UP. ESCAPE. HE WILL HURT YOU._  
She hurriedly scrambled to her feet only to feel herself being roughly pushed down onto her back. She screamed and fought him, kicking, scratching and hitting until he started choking her. Sarah clawed at his hands on her throat as she struggled for air, weakening by the second. She looked at him pleadingly, eyes brimming with tears. 

“Will you behave?” he asked, his voice low and rough. His wound was paining, arcing through him like lightning. Sweat beaded on his forehead and chest. She frantically nodded and he released her throat. Sarah sucked in air gratefully, her elation short lived before he pinned her hands above her head and straddled her hips, effectively pinning her in place. His thumbs gently brushed the insides of her wrists, as he stared at her considering his next move.  
_Dark brown. Her eyes are dark brown. And they look kind._ She was a cute girl with an innocent looking face. The kind of girl who would come across as naïve and unjaded. “What are you doing in my house?” he murmured.  
She stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Tears trickled down the sides of her face. “I was looking f-for a place to st-st-stay for the night,” she stammered. She could feel her heart thundering in her chest and flinched when he lowered his head to the side of her face.

Brahms took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. She smelt of rainwater and something decidedly feminine. He let out a low growl and felt her shiver in response to him. _Good. This will be good._ “You will stay here with me,” he whispered in her ear, “Indefinitely.” He felt her body tense beneath him and he gave a small smirk before facing her again.

“No. Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone,” she pleaded desperately, writhing against his hold. Brahms’ hand tightened on her throat, and she stilled, forcing herself to calm down. “Fine,” she whimpered. 

“I will show you to your room,” he breathed in her ear. The hand on her throat trailed to the back of her neck that tightened into a fist full of hair before pulling her head back. She let out a small moan. “Should you try to escape,” he purred, “there will be repercussions.” Without warning, he hauled her off the floor and dragged her to the room Greta had stayed in. He could lock the door and keep an eye on her. Plus, she had a bathroom in there, so it limited the number of reasons that she could use to leave the room. He shoved her into the room and stood in the doorway while he scanned the room for the key. Sarah spun around to face him, eyes wide and confused. Before she could say anything, he had slammed the door and she heard the definite click of the lock.  
_No. God please, what’s going on??_ Her mind reeled at the speed at which the current events just occurred. 

“Your suitcase will be provided later,” he stated from the other side of the door, before she could hear his footsteps heading down the corridor.  
She wrapped her arms around her, shivering partly from the wet clothes and partly from what just happened. She considered herself a fighter and prided herself on the fact but she couldn’t fight him. He was too strong. When he had her pinned to the floor she could tell he wasn’t using most of his strength. When he walked away just now, she could see the ropes of muscle in his back and on his biceps. Had she fought him, she would have been badly hurt. She shuddered at the thought. Perhaps she could outsmart him? 

Maybe. He wasn’t stupid. That much she could tell. His intelligence shone through his dark eyes. Always observing. Calculating. She walked around the room noting barred windows and two doors, one for a closet and the other leading to an adjoining bathroom. She shivered again. _Maybe a shower? Warm up and calm down at the same time._ She hurried into the bathroom and looked for a lock. _I don’t want him walking in on me._ She let out a sigh in frustration when her search proved fruitless. _Guess I’ll just shut the door then._

Stripping off her wet clothes and placing her glasses on the sink, she turned on the tap and soon steam filled the bathroom. As soon as she stepped in Sarah moaned in happiness. The only good thing to come of this night. The hot water soothed her cold aching muscles and washed away her fears momentarily. The water pelted her skin and she soaked up the heat, grateful for the iciness leaving her body. Her bones had begun to ache with the cold.  
She loathed to turn the hot water off, but did so anyway only to realize that she didn’t have a towel. She peered around the room. That small towel near the sink would have to do. Drying herself she held it on her front and peered out the door. He wasn’t there. But her suitcase was. She frowned but made her way to the case and began to search for some sleepwear. Pulling on a white satin chemise she pulled out her mini hair dryer and travel adapter and set out to dry her hair.  
_Can’t afford to get sick while I’m a hostage._ She gave a mirthless laugh. 

Weariness soon took over, the effects of the previous events taking its toll on her. Sarah climbed into bed and slid under the covers, a final thought entering her mind.

_I don’t even know his name…_


	3. Introductions

_She saw me without my mask._  
Brahms hissed in pain as he changed the dressing on his wound. Shame coursed through his body at the thought of an attractive female knowing what he truly looked like, but he shook it away. _No more pretending. No more trying to be a little boy. I want to be me._  
After placing her suitcase in the room, Brahms dealt with Cole’s body, digging a grave in the forest. The cold and rain didn’t bother him. It helped to numb the pain. When he came back, he cleaned up and went to sleep, dreaming of laughter and dark brown eyes. He had woken up with a start. And now, here he was. _Should I give her the rules?_

Maybe not all of them, but she could still follow a few. He gave a small smile and stared out the window. He fell asleep in the room just next to his old one. No more sleeping in a little boy’s room. Or in the hideout in the walls either. Pretending to be something he was not, resulted in him losing Greta. He didn’t want to lose Sarah either. Yes. He knew her name. He had a quick peek through her belongings and found an ID. Sarah Walker. 23 years old. Born on the 23rd of August. She was 6 years younger than him.

_....Right. The rules._  
Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, he set to work.

**~**

Sarah reluctantly opened her eyes, not wanting to face her troubles. Sleep was her escape and now she had to deal with the present. And her captor. She sighed and stumbled to the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth, grabbing the necessary items from her suitcase. _Maybe he won’t be that bad? Think positive!_ She brushed her hair, a vague attempt at neatening her curls. A knock on her bedroom door sounded throughout the room and before she could open it, there was the sound of it being unlocked and swung open.  
_Speak of the devil…_

He strode into her room confidently and stared at her while walking towards her. He stood less than half a meter away from her, the idea of personal space, apparently, something alien to him. Sarah froze into place not wanting to make any sudden movement and fully took in his appearance during daylight. 

His hair was black, slightly long and curly. And he was tall. Really tall. She stood at 170cm and he looked to be at least 190cm. Her eyes slowly roamed over his face, noting the dips in flesh. His lips remained unscathed, they were soft and full and slightly pink. Her gaze caught his and she blushed, feeling like she just did something she shouldn’t have. 

He held out a piece of paper to her. “Here,” he said, “these are the rules that you need to follow.” Wordlessly, Sarah took the paper from him. “Do you have a name?” she blurted out suddenly. He eyed her curiously, the unexpected question peaking his interest in her. He imagined her to be hysterical or in tears, but not like this. Not quiet. Especially not after seeing his face. “It’s Brahms,” he murmured. “Brahms Heelshire.” 

Sarah felt her brow furrow at the pleasant sound of his voice. She never took notice of it the first time he spoke to her, but it was deep, low, and slightly gruff. _What the hell? Get it together! Are you so damaged that you find the voice of your abductor attractive?!_  
“Brahms,” she repeated distractedly, trying to push away the unnecessary yet mildly alarming observation that she had made of him. “I’m Sarah Walker.”

“I know.”

Her eyes widened slightly, anxiety beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. “H-how did you know that?”

“Your ID,” came the simply reply.

Irritation mixed with the anxiety. “You went through my stuff?” 

“Just a little.” 

_Calm down, Sarah. Don’t get him mad. Bide your time._ She looked down at the piece of paper with the rules he had given her. A distraction of sorts while she buried her irritation. “No guests, maintain the house, never leave, prepare meals and kiss goodnight,” she mumbled before looking up at him. _I am a glorified maid of sorts…great._

“Any questions?” he asked.

“…No.”

“Good. You will join me for every meal. That’s not a request,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

“But-“ she started.

“Do you want to starve?” he asked, feigning politeness. She shook her head in response. “Good girl.”

Sarah hung her head, staring at the floor beneath her feet. _I just need to be patient. Earn his trust. Strike when his guard is down._

Brahms stared at her, mildly surprised at her obedience. When Greta had started looking after him, she broke some of the rules. Predictable, of course. He expected the same of Sarah, but she seemed to be heading in the opposite direction. Feeling some sympathy for her plight, he placed a single finger under her chin and tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “If you are good to me, Sarah, I will be good to you,” he said softly. His hand moved to the side of her face, gently brushing the delicate skin before retreating. “Now let’s have breakfast.” 

“Let me change first.” She was still in her chemise, and the sudden realisation had her cheeks turn pink. No man had ever seen her in such a state before. The nightwear barely reached her mid-thigh and clung to every curve. 

Brahms let his gaze roam over her for a few seconds before leaving as abruptly as he arrived.

**~**

Pulling on a white sweater and some grey skinny jeans, Sarah wandered around the house, unsure of where the kitchen was. Heading down the stairs, she marveled at the interior. At night, it was eerie, but during daylight the house held an elegant atmosphere.  
Stepping into a large white room with equally white cupboards, she gave a small smile of victory and began scrounging around for supplies. Brahms was nowhere to be found. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t sure what she would do had he been watching her every move while she made breakfast. Grabbing some eggs, milk and other ingredients she set to work. She was in the middle of scrambling the eggs when a change in the atmosphere alerted her that she was not alone. Slowly, she turned around, heart beating in her chest. 

Brahms was leaning casually against the entrance, a look of satisfaction on his face while he observed her. He was dressed in all black from head to toe. He looked dangerous. 

“I hope you like them scrambled,” she said nervously, breaking the silence. It was unnerving how he made no sound when he watched her. She offered him a small smile.

“Scrambled is fine, thanks.” 

_What riveting conversation. He’s going to talk my ears off at this rate._ Stifling a giggle, she went back to work. Whatever laughter she had, died when she remembered how he choked her last night. Her fingers brushed the skin of her bruised neck and she swallowed nervously as she was unceremoniously reminded what he was capable of. 

Brahms’ eyes narrowed when he noticed her touching her neck, her expression changing to fear. Understanding dawned on him; he had choked her last night and she was afraid he would do so again. _Not a good sign. Fear makes people do stupid things. Distract her._ He began to silently set the table.

Sarah turned around in surprise at the sound of dishes. Brahms was helping her. Unsure of how to deal with the unusual but kind gesture, she smiled again at him and brought the food to the table. _Let’s see, eggs, toast…. what else?_ “What do you want to drink?”

“Some coffee please.”

Brewing some coffee for the two of them, she handed him a cup before adding copious amounts of milk to her own. Looking up, she found him staring at her with a puzzled expression. She grinned sheepishly. “I like the smell but not the bitter taste.” With that, they began to eat in an awkward silence. 

**~~~ Later ~~~**

Hands on her hips, Sarah peered around the kitchen she just cleared. Brahms had left her alone, disappearing God knows where, but she was grateful for the solitude. Breakfast was incredibly awkward. There she was, sitting with the man holding her captive, eating breakfast with him like a happy couple of sorts. _I hope I played the part well. Maybe he doesn’t suspect anything. Hopefully._ She had a strong suspicion that even though he was not here right now, he was, in fact, watching her. Shaking off the uneasy feeling, she wandered into the hall. “Brahms??” she called out. No response. Just before she could turn around, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she jumped in fright, a small squeak escaping her lips. 

“What do you want?” he questioned, voice low and rough.

“You have to stop doing that!” she cried out, her heart rate slowing down to a more reasonable pace. “It’s frightening!” 

He shot her a small smirk. “What makes you think you’re able to make demands, little Sarah?” Brahms took a step forward, his body so close to hers, she could feel the heat radiating off him. He lowered his head. “And what if I like to hear you squeal?” he whispered in her ear. He enjoyed toying with her, the way a cat would with a mouse. 

Sarah jumped backwards, feeling a shiver coursing through her – something that did not go unnoticed by the man who caused it. Brahms stalked forward, herding her backwards until she was pressed against the wall. He placed a hand on either side of her head, caging her. “Tell me something, little Sarah, why are you so obedient?” he murmured, holding her gaze. A hand left the wall to play with a lock of her dark hair; the act seemingly innocent but laced with an underlying threat. “The last few women who came here all put up some sort of struggle.” His hand softly tugged on the lock of hair, causing a surprisingly pleasurable sensation to spread across her scalp. She gasped at the unexpected feeling and Brahms almost smiled at the spark of pleasure he saw ignite in her eyes. _Highly responsive to even the most basic touch. I wonder if she’s ever...._

“But not you,” he continued, “You seem to just…accept it. Like a good girl.” His hand slid from her hair down to her throat. Sarah felt panic well up in her chest before she realised he wasn’t going to choke her again. He was just caressing the soft skin on her neck. “So tell me something, little Sarah, are you a good girl?” He gently applied pressure with his fingertips, massaging her delicate skin, all the time watching her responses to him. Confusion mixed with pleasure in her eyes. _Delicious. She is going to be so delicious once I get my hands on her._

She nodded slowly, unsure of exactly what he meant. “Good,” he purred in ear. His hand snaked back up her neck, grabbing a hold of her soft hair at the nape of her neck before gently tugging in back. Her head tipped back and he stood straight, no longer bent over her.

Sarah let out a small whimper at the sight of Brahms looming over her while she had her back against the wall. She had a horrible feeling regarding the direction that this conversation was heading.


	4. Caution

“I see and hear everything, Little Sarah” he warned. With those ominous words, she was abruptly let go, and he walked away, disappearing up the stairs. 

_What the hell? Talk about anti-climactic._ It was clearly a threat against her escaping. She sank to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest. All she wanted was to find out where the cleaning supplies were kept. She sighed and placed her forehead on her knees, thinking about his parting words. If he saw and heard everything that went on in the house, did that mean there were cameras?  
_Guess I have a mission before I escape. Plan A, determine where the cameras are, if any. Plan B, get the hell out of here._ She could do the search while she cleaned the house. That way she could move things around without coming across as suspicious. Her brow furrowed as she formulated a plan.

**~**

Brahms slipped into his old room, closed the door quietly and waited for a moment, his ears straining for the sound of her footsteps. When he heard nothing, he gently pushed a panel in the corner of the room and it opened revealing a hidden passage. It was how he moved around the house undetected and it helped him stay hidden while keeping an eye on Sarah.  
He walked silently through the narrow passages, the wood groaning in protest. He had lived within these walls for nearly his whole life. _The last two decades, if I’m correct._ Alone. He was left alone. A forgotten secret lurking behind the walls in the Heelshire Manor. Brahms gently pushed at another hidden panel and stepped through.

It was his sanctuary. A hidden makeshift room in the walls. Dimly lit, his room had everything he could ever need. Tools, a bed, a fridge and even books. He sat on the edge of his bed, planning his next move. He couldn’t afford to trust her. Not yet. It was still too soon, and if he was correct in his estimations, she would take his warning as a challenge. They always do. Brahms smirked at the memories of previous women disobeying him. They thought they could fight him and learnt the hard way. Except for Greta. His smirk dissolved into a scowl. He had let Greta under his skin, thinking that she would come to love and understand him. And look where that got him. A sound of annoyance escaped his lips and he walked to his mirror, staring at his face. _I am going to have to keep a close eye on this one. And make her submit to me._ He would not make the same mistake with Sarah.  
Brahms ran a hand through his hair, deep in thought. _Best to take a small nap now before nightfall._ He lay down, mind jumbled with plans and manipulation tactics to get her where he wanted. As Brahms drifted off, a small smile played on his lips. 

**~**

_She was running from him, trying to get away. Her hair rippled behind her as she ran through the forest behind the house._  
_Brahms felt tears of anguish drip down his cheeks as he sprinted after her, desperately trying to catch her before it was too late. His breathing was ragged and his muscles ached with the strain he put on himself. “NO! GET BACK HERE!” He had screamed so loud his throat hurt._  
_Not that she cared. She didn’t even turn around to look at him. She just kept on going, determined to leave him. To leave him all alone again. “PLEASE! DON’T LEAVE ME!” His desperation gave him a sudden burst of speed._  
_So close. Almost there._  
_He reached out to grab a hold of her arm._  
_Just before he could grasp her, he tripped on a root and fell, landing unforgivingly on his front. Panting from the exertion, he bolted up and sprung forward again. But it was too late. She was gone._  
_Brahms sunk to his knees and dropped his head in his hands, a sound of despair echoing through the forest._

**\----------------**

Brahms shot out of bed, eyes wide and chest heaving with emotion. _A dream…. It was only a dream._ He sank to the bed, head in hands as he tried to control his heart-rate. His insecurities came crawling back, one by one.  
_She will leave you just like the others…_  
_Who could ever love a man with a face like yours?_

His breath rattled through his teeth as he pushed the spiteful thoughts aside and stalked to the basin, splashing water on his face, and glancing at the clock. It was after 6pm. _She might be getting dinner ready._ Pushing through the hidden panel, he climbed through and walked through the passage leading to his old room. He paused at the hidden opening, ears training for any sound that might indicate that Sarah was close by. Nothing. He silently slipped through the hidden door and quietly shut it before making his way down to the kitchen. 

She was by the stove, mixing something in a pot and softly humming away to herself. He stood in the doorway and scowled at the picture-perfect scene. _Something is not right. What is she planning? People don’t rapidly adjust to such a situation. Especially not a woman that has been held hostage._ Brahms felt his brow furrow and quickly adopted a neutral expression. His voice rumbled throughout the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?” 

Sarah felt her back stiffen slightly. _He certainly gets his kicks out of sneaking up on me…_ She turned to face him and gave him a small smile. “I was a bit tired, so I thought I would whip up some pasta with homemade tomato sauce.” She turned her attention back to the pot, stirring the sauce. 

“Smells delicious,” he said, seating himself at the table and casually observing her. 

“Mm, thanks,” she replied, uncertain of what else to say. She could feel his dark eyes on her, taking in everything she did. It was incredibly unnerving and when Sarah was nervous, she became either incredibly talkative or unusually quiet. There was no in-between. “I have always loved pasta. It’s so delicious and simple to make,” she babbled, a small blush forming on her cheeks. _Uh oh. Talkative Sarah is in the house._ “It’s a comfort food of mine and reminds me of a lot of good things, like laughter and family…” her voice trailed off. Sarah snuck a peek at Brahms and found him looking at her with a slightly amused expression. _Really. If he could learn to relax his expression more often, he wouldn’t be that terrifying…_ Her eyes widened in shock at the direction of her thoughts and she hurried to push them away. “Could you please set the table?” 

Surprisingly, he did. She didn’t expect him to after the incident earlier where he clearly stated that she was to do as he told and not to demand anything. She swallowed nervously and joined him at the table. 

Dinner was quiet and uneventful. Sarah spent her meal sneaking peeks at Brahms between bites, curiosity getting the best of her. His table manners were impeccable, a contradiction for someone who appeared to have slight violent tendencies. She scoffed at herself. _Really? SLIGHT is a kind word. The man choked you, remember?_ Taking the last bite, her gaze roved over his face, softening at the burns and scarred skin. He would have been a handsome man, had he been unharmed – she could tell that much. She tilted her head slightly and took a sip of water, her scrutiny of him continuing. He clearly did not groom his beard, the hair looking mildly disheveled. _Ah, he’s done. I wonder if his hair feels as soft as it looks?_

Brahms looked up, his dark gaze meeting her stunned one. “Do you like what you see, Little Sarah?” His tone was slightly mocking and he arched a brow at her questioningly, casually sipping at his water. 

Sarah could hear the smirk in his voice and flushed at the question, choosing not to answer it. “I’m just going to clear up and head to bed,” she mumbled and hurried to the sink, dishes balancing haphazardly in her hands. _Oh my God. That was sooo subtle._ She frowned at herself as she washed up; she was behaving like a girl with a crush. Giving herself a mental shake, she hurriedly cleaned up and sped out to take a shower.  
Brahms was still seated at the table when she left, observing her with a small smile on his face. _This might be easier than I thought._

**~**

Sarah berated herself as the hot water flowed over her surprisingly tired muscles. _Don’t try to understand him. That opens room for sympathy which can lead to…. complications..._ She groaned as she shampooed her hair and rinsed off. _You don’t want that drama again…_ Sarah sighed as she dried herself off and put on her sleepwear. She padded to her room, lost in thought. She was the kind of person who liked to help others, no matter the cost to herself. _Like a broken Florence Nightingale of sorts…_ She scowled and dried her hair, exhaustion from the day settling in. Sarah bit her lip as she massaged moisturizer onto her skin. Settling herself in bed, she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts a mess. 

A soft knock sounded on her door. “Come in,” she called out absentmindedly. _Did I forget to do something?_ She woke up and stood at the foot of the bed, confused as to what he would want. 

Brahms walked through and stood in front of her. “Forgetting something Little Sarah?” His voice was low, and something about the tone sent a small shiver down her spine. 

She straightened her back and stared at him, slightly defiant. “No, I don’t think so.” 

He reached out and cupped the side of her face, his thumb gently brushing over her lower lip giving her a small hint. Her lips parted in understanding and she hesitated. _Oh no. The rules… Kiss goodnight._

“Sarah,” he warned. This time his nail grazed over the delicate skin of her lip, not breaking the skin, but the message was clear. She gulped and looked up at him. His eyes were nearly black with some unnamed emotion and he stared, taking in every movement of hers. _Get it over and done with._ Placing her hands on his chest, she leaned up and gave him a small peck on his cheek. “Goodnight, Brahms.” She tried to step back, but he placed his left hand on the small of her back, trapping her, while his right hand toyed with her hair. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, pleased at her obedience. He said nothing else and made no move to let her go any time soon. They just stood there while he played with a lock of her hair, carefully watching her. The poor girl was like a deer caught in headlights, absolutely still and warily eyeing him. Brahms inwardly chuckled. _Skittish creature..._  
Feeling some sort of sympathy for her plight, Brahms reluctantly let go of her and walked to the door. “Goodnight,” he called out before shutting the door with a definite click. 

Sarah stilled for a few minutes, listening to the sound of his footsteps padding down the hall. When she was certain he was away, she hurriedly locked the door and huddled under the covers of her bed. _You did good. That was nowhere as bad as it could have been._  
She curled into a ball and shut her eyes, desperately trying to fall asleep. However, for some inexplicable reason, her heart was racing.

_It must be nerves._


	5. Compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello ~  
> Just a little treat for you guys. Let me know if you feel that the chapter seems rushed in any way at all. I kinda feel that it is, but didn't want to have you guys wait long for it ^^;  
> As you can probably tell, my version of Brahms is of a fully mature adult capable of manipulation and deceit. He is a curious mix of instinct and reason and knows exactly what he is doing and why.  
> Thanks for reading ~~ :D  
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Making a small noise of frustration, Sarah sank to the floor in defeat. She had spent the last few days subtly searching for hidden cameras with no luck. To make matters even more complicated, she was running out of food. She would have to head into town and stock up unless they wanted to starve. Sighing, she placed her hands in her head. _Ugh. The town is so far away! I don’t want to have to walk there and back with groceries._ Taking off her glasses, she massaged her temples to collect her thoughts. _Maybe Brahms has a car hidden somewhere?_ She snickered to herself. _Yeah right. The recluse owning a car…...doesn’t hurt to ask though._

“Brahms?” 

The man in question appeared to materialize out of nowhere. Sarah smiled inwardly. A small part of her liked the way he was so…attentive. She never had that before and it was a little bit flattering if she was being honest with herself. 

Seeing her on the floor without her glasses, Brahms stalked over to her. “Are you alright, Sarah?” he asked, his voice deep with concern. Kneeling on the floor next to her, he picked up her glasses and handed it to her.

“We’re running out of food Brahms,” she bluntly stated. “I need to head into town for more. Do you have money and a car?”

Brahms frowned at her question. Of course, he expected them to run out of supplies, but just not so soon. With Malcolm out of the picture, the weekly groceries weren’t being delivered. But the real issue was, would she leave him? Once she was in town, would she vanish as suddenly as she appeared? His eyes darkened at the thought. She was his. He wouldn’t allow her to leave. Ever. 

Sarah was carefully watching Brahms. When the light in his eyes changed to something more sinister, she spoke up. “I promise I won’t leave, Brahms,” she whispered softly. _Poor guy. He just doesn’t want to be left alone…_ “We just need food. That is all.” After a pause, she added, “And I can get you some new clothes if you’d like too.” She flashed him a tentative smile. 

“Alright,” he agreed. Standing up, he held out his hand towards her. He felt his heart skip a beat at the light touch of her small and soft hand in his, before he helped her up. She was affecting him more than he anticipated. Unsure if it was good or bad, Brahms led her to the front hall. “Wait here,” he instructed before he disappeared up the stairs. 

He reappeared a few minutes later, he reappeared. “Follow me.”

_Strange. Is he not going to let me leave?_ Sarah scowled slightly at his back as he led her up the stairs into the study. It was a large and elegant room with dark wooden furniture and the walls covered in shelves that were filled with books. A fireplace stood opposite a sizeable desk with a large plush carpet in-between. 

Her gaze focused on the phone resting on a small side table. Did he want her to make a call? 

As if he sensed her confusion, Brahms spoke. “We used to have a grocery boy delivered our supplies,” he explained. “This is the number, call the store and ask for them to continue with their arrangement.” He handed her a paper with the phone number on it. “If they ask questions, say that you’re taking over from the previous nanny.”

“Err, what?” Sarah couldn’t believe that he wasn’t allowing her to leave the house for food. She shot him an incredulous look. “Are you serious? You’re not even letting me leave for groceries?!” _What the hell!_ She could feel her anger bubbling up and fought to push it down. _Easy. Take it easy. He’s the one with stability issues, remember?_

Eyes narrowing, Brahms took a step forward. “You’re not leaving, Little Sarah,” he said softly. Even though he didn’t raise his voice, his warning was clear. There was no room for argument. 

Sarah took a deep breath to calm herself. “Fine. But I need other items as well.” 

Brahms shot her a mildly curious glance. “Oh? Such as?”

“Feminine hygiene products, shampoo, that sort of thing.” She shot him a stubborn look, defiance etched in her features. _If he is going to keep me here, he might as well pay for it!_ A low sound of irritation escaped her before she could stop it.

Inwardly smirking at her obvious attempt at disobedience, Brahms met her gaze. “Fine. Order as you see fit,” he said nonchalantly. He settled himself in a chair, observing her as she made the call.

After rattling off a long list of items, the call ended and she turned to face him. “They will deliver the items tomorrow around noon.” 

He nodded and continued to watch her in silence. _Would she question me about Malcolm and Greta?_

The urge to leave the room grew in Sarah as the man in front of her simply just watched her. It was unnerving really. Having someone stare at you with a blank expression for an extended period left much room for feeling uncomfortable. She swallowed nervously and looked out the window, but she could feel his gaze burning into her. Desperate to break the awful silence she spoke up. “What happened to the previous delivery boy and nanny?” 

_Ah. There it is._ His gaze sharpened and he said nothing.

Sarah felt her temper flare before she could stop herself. “Listen here!” she demanded, her voice slightly raised. “The least you can do is answer my question! I’m stuck in this house all by myself and I am not allowed to go out! You could at least answer the goddamn question!” Panic shot through her when she was done. She had just yelled at the person keeping her locked in a house in the middle of nowhere. 

The look of panic on her face didn’t go by unnoticed by Brahms. Contemplating her request, he answered her carefully. “They both left.” There. A short and sweet answer. 

“What do you mean they left?” 

“As I said, they left.” His tone had changed, voice hardening with anger.

Noting the shift in his demeanor, she decided not to push him further. “I see.” _That makes no sense though. Why hire a nanny when there’s obviously no little kids?_ Sarah’s gut instinct told her something was off, but she pushed it aside. Now was not the time to question him. He was clearly on the verge of blowing up at her. Walking out of the study, she turned around to see Brahms staring at the fireplace lost in thought. “Well, I’m going to make dinner,” she announced, before disappearing, not waiting for his response.

**~**

Stepping out of the shower, Sarah dried herself and changed into her pyjamas before padding to her bed. She stopped in front of the full-length mirror near her dresser, and gave her reflection a small smile of encouragement. _Just a few more days before you can leave._ Guilt shot through her at the thought of leaving Brahms here all alone in this big and empty house. He would have no one once she left. _Does he even know how to cook?_ She shook her head at the unwanted thought. _Not my problem. He’s not my responsibility._

She drew the curtains, except for one near her bed. The room was nearly dark except for the moonlight that shone through the exposed window. Sliding under the covers, she sank into a deep sleep almost immediately. 

**\---------------**

Brahms watched Sarah from behind the walls, eyeing her figure appreciatively. The moonlight streamed through the window and onto her bed, painting a pretty picture. He quite liked the pyjamas she had chosen; a simple white satin chemise that reached her upper thighs, completed with thin straps over her shoulders that had him itching to slip them off.

He waited patiently until her breathing had evened out, until he was sure that she was asleep before silently slipping out through her closet door. Grabbing the armchair from the corner of the room, he placed it at her bedside and settled himself in it. He simply wanted to watch her sleep, nothing more. She was his and he liked watching her sleep. It was…comforting in a strange way. 

_God, she is lovely._ Her hair shone in the moonlight, dark lashes fanning out and lips slightly pink from the warmth of the covers. He needed something more - just watching her wouldn’t be enough. Unable to help himself, he reached out and gently stroked the soft, slightly hot, skin on the side of her face. As if she could feel his touch in her sleep, she tilted her head into his touch. Brahms smiled and cupped her cheek, before leaning over and placing a small kiss on the corner of her mouth. She made a small sound and he froze. She flipped the covers off her and his eyes widened at what was underneath.

Her chemise had ridden up to her waist, exposing her underwear. His pulse quickened as he took in the picture before him. Thin straps hugged her hips and a small strip of fabric shielded her from his eyes. Brahms caressed the delicate skin of her upper thighs, marveling at the softness. His hands trailed upwards, over her mound and up her stomach before halting at her breasts. He gently cupped them, brushing his thumbs over her nipples and watching with satisfaction as they hardened underneath the smooth fabric. He did it again, before applying more pressure, a low growl leaving him when she moaned softly in her sleep.

Reluctant to draw away, he removed his hands and placed the chair back in its place before walking to her bathroom. He rifled through the laundry basket that had her clothes which needed to be washed. _There it is._ He grabbed the soft and lacy fabric, stuffing it in his pocket while he silently made his way to her closet door. 

Shooting her one last hot look, he slipped through the walls and hurriedly made his way to his secret room, breathing hard. His arousal was evident, straining in his pants, and he pulled her panties from his pocket, inhaling her unique scent. Brahms felt his staff jerk and groaned low in his throat. He braced himself against the wall and freed his girth, hand wrapping around his shaft and slowly began to pump.  
Sweat beaded his brow as his imagination ran rampant on how he would claim her. Up against the wall, with her legs wrapped around his waist and her weight slowly impaling her on his thick cock. Having her wet heat strain to contain him as she moaned his name...  
_“Mmm….Brahms.”_

He gritted his teeth and a groan escaped him.  
Slow and deep. That was how he would take her. To have her feel every inch of him penetrating her, reminding her of who owned her.  
_“Who do you belong to?”_ Images of her writhing in his arms as he pinned her to the wall flashed through his mind. Her nails would rake down his back and he would take her lips in an unforgivable kiss, tongue tasting her as she moaned into his mouth. Her slick heat would clench around his shaft as she came on his cock. He grunted and felt his pleasure reaching its threshold, a low heat spreading in his lower back and abdomen. His cock throbbed almost painfully, demanding release. Brahms growled as his stomach tightened, spending himself on her panties. He panted as he struggled to gain his bearings. 

He was slowly losing patience. She would be his. And soon.


	6. Delivery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update, lovely readers. I was really sick for like a week and then after that my work schedule was all over the place, so I couldn't work on the chapter.  
> But thanks for your support and patience, I hope you enjoy this update ~~  
> Also, I feel this chapter is lacking in some way but I cannot figure it out, so I may come back and edit it later :O  
> ^_^  
>  **\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**
> 
> EDIT: After the help that AppleSpice was kind enough to give me, I present to you dear readers an updated version of this chapter that hopefully finishes better than the previous one. Feedback is always appreciated lovelies ~~  
> Enjoy :D
> 
> **\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

To say that she was bored would be the understatement of the century. After over a week of being locked away in the manor, Sarah was beginning to lose the plot. Huffing to herself she plopped onto an armchair, closing her eyes. She was starved for human interaction to say the least. Even though Brahms was here, he wasn’t truly here. God knows where he disappears to. If she was being completely honest with herself, she was looking forward to the grocery boy coming over. As if on cue, a loud knock on the front door echoed throughout the manor. Jumping from the chair, she bolted to the door and opening it, heart beating fast with excitement. 

A young man stood before her with multiple bags of groceries at his feet. “Hello there,” he politely greeted her. “My name is Alastair Grayson. I am Malcolm’s replacement.” 

Sarah flashed him a wide smile. “Hi! I’m Sarah. Sarah Walker.” She gestured towards the kitchen. “Come in, come in.” 

Alastair began to transfer the bags to the kitchen, working silently and efficiently, while Sarah observed him. He was taller than she was, with blond hair and stormy grey eyes.

“All done. I’ll be heading out now.”

Sarah felt her elation give away to disappointment, which must have shown on her face because he gave a small laugh. “Miss Walker, are you so alone in this house that you would be upset when your grocery boy leaves?” His eyes shone with mirth.

She flushed and looked away. “Maybe…”

“I’ll tell you what, when I return next week with your delivery, we can have a chat. Unfortunately, I am quite busy today,” he said apologetically. 

She turned even more red. _God. How desperate must he think I am?!_ “Only if you want to…” her voice trailed off. 

“Of course, I do. It will be my pleasure. See you next week, Miss Walker.” He gave her a small wave and let himself out, the sound of his van fading in the distance.

Sighing to herself, she began to unpack and store the groceries. _Well, that’s just great. The delivery guy thinks I’m needy._

**\------------------ Meanwhile -------------------**

Brahms viewed the whole interaction with displeasure. Sarah broke the rules by inviting him over next week. _I specified no guests!_ Scowling, he watched her from behind the walls. She was his and yet, there she was smiling at the new delivery boy. A sound of displeasure left him as he watched her smiling happily while she put away the groceries. _She never truly smiled at me like that… _His eyes widened slightly at the thought. Was he jealous? He stared at her, humming softly while she worked and a small lance of pain arced through his chest. Yes. He was without a doubt jealous.__

__Making his way through the walls, he pushed open a panel and silently made his way into the kitchen. Sarah was on her tip toes, stretching up to put away a box of pasta. Leaning against the wall, he admired the scene before him. Her posture was elongated, emphasizing her dips and curves and her ass and breasts were slightly thrust out as she packed the items away._ _

__Images of her naked, writhing and bound in his bed flooded his mind. He licked his lips and folded his arms across his chest. The rustle of his clothes had her turning around, eyes wide and alert._ _

__“Oh. It’s just you.” She turned around and continued with her work, not interested in the man with no words. What was the point? He would say very little if nothing at all. The little voice of reason in her head spoke up. _Don’t antagonise him.__ _

__Noting her change in attitude towards him, Brahms shot a dark look at her back. He would have to remind her of who was in charge here. Of who belonged to who. He stalked forward and stood behind her, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off her. He felt rather than saw her freeze at his proximity to her. “Let me help you with that,” he murmured. He leant forward slightly and brushed his hips against her as he put away the boxes._ _

__Brahms heard her swift intake of breath at his touch and gave a small smirk. Poor girl. She held herself so still that it almost looked like she wasn’t breathing. Withdrawing, he turned her around slowly, noting the way she trembled slightly at his touch. “What’s wrong, Sarah?” he politely enquired, his hands remaining on her shoulders._ _

__Sarah said nothing, staring at the floor between the two of them. Her mind was blank yet she was acutely aware of Brahms. His scent, his touch, his voice… All of it was having an unwanted effect on her. When he brushed against her, it felt like a jolt of electricity coursed through her body, and she forced herself to be still so that he wouldn’t notice her reaction. If he did….. _like a cat with a mouse._ She inwardly shivered at the thought of being Brahms’ plaything. He already had a habit of toying with her until she blew up at him and then he would punish her in peculiar ways. She definitely did not want another demonstration. It would be a good idea to keep quiet._ _

__Annoyed with her lack of response, Brahms decided to change tactics. “Does Alastair know you belong to me?” He watched her carefully, pleased when he noticed a flash of anger in her eyes._ _

__Silence be damned. “I do not belong to you!”_ _

__“Oh? But you do. You see, you’re my prisoner. You’re mine. It’s actually quite simple.”_ _

__“Exactly! PRISONER! You lock me in this house and expect me to just dance along to your tune!” She clenched her fists in fury at his words. “I am not your toy!”_ _

__Brahms flashed her a warning look. “Behave Little Sarah, or I will have to punish you.” If he was to be honest with himself, he was looking forward to it. He enjoyed watching her fight with herself at her reactions over him._ _

__Sarah saw red and felt her temper explode. How dare he? “Give it your best shot, you goddamn psycho!” She raised her fists to punch him in the chest, but Brahms moved like lightning. He spun her around and bent her over the counter, her wrists trapped in his hand above her head. She struggled in his hold, desperately twisting to free herself from his hold. A panicked sound escaped her when she felt him kick her legs apart and purposefully press his hips against her behind, before bending over her._ _

__“Consider this your last warning, little one,” he whispered in her ear. “I could have easily tied you to my bed and had my way with you,” he bucked his hips lightly against hers, “but I chose not to. Don’t make me change my mind.”_ _

__Shaking beneath him at his ominous words, Sarah struggled to regain control over her emotions. Fear, anger, the need for survival all flooded her at once. She was a fool to think of him as attractive. To find something as simple as his voice soothing. Tears spilled from her eyes as she finally realised how embarrassingly stupid she had been, how incredibly naïve she was in dealing with her situation. “Fine,” she said weakly, her voice cracking with fear. “I’ll be good. I swear.”_ _

__“Will you now?”_ _

__“Yes. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”_ _

___Interesting choice of words._ Brahms released her and watched with some bitterness as she desperately scrambled away from him, trying to put as much distance as possible between the two of them. Tears tracked down her cheeks and the tip off her nose was slightly pink from crying. She was watching him fearfully, chest heaving slightly. Anger welled up in Brahms’ chest at her reaction to him. Was he so monstrous that she would react this way? Granted that he just threatened her, but it still made his chest clench painfully. She was his. Why could she not see that? _ _

__“No guests,” he reminded her, more forcefully than he intended._ _

__“I-I know that.”_ _

__“That means no…chatting….with Alastair.”_ _

__She gave him a pitiful look. “Please. I’m all alone here. Don’t do that. Please.”_ _

__“You have me.”_ _

__Sarah gave him a look of disbelief before staring at the wall behind him. Silence stretched between the two of them as she dared not to speak her mind. She had him? If she was not terrified of him right now she would have laughed at his ludicrous words._ _

__“Sarah, look at me.” Brahms couldn’t understand why she seemed so taken aback by his words. Why did she not believe him? She brown gaze met his and for a fraction of a second he thought he glimpsed…hope?_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“What do you mean?” Brahms asked, slightly confused by her answer._ _

__“No. I don’t have you.”_ _

__“Yes, you do.”_ _

“No! I don’t!” She shouted. At her words, the proverbial dam burst and everything she kept inside spilled out in harsh words. “You disappear every day and I am left all alone! What the hell occupies you, since I am guessing you don’t leave this goddamn place?! When you do show up, you have this annoying habit of treating me like a toy! And when I finally do have the opportunity to talk to someone, you take it away! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Her chest heaved with emotion and tears streamed down her cheeks.  
_And this is what I get for attempting to be understanding,_ Brahms thought with some annoyance. _A crying female that’s borderline hysterical. Splendid._ Casting his gaze to the ceiling, he sought the patience needed to deal with Sarah’s emotional outburst. “What I do and where I go is none of your concern. I do not need to answer to you regarding any matter.” 

The emotion in Sarah’s eyes dulled and she looked at him impassively. “Fine, have it your way then.” Turning on her heel, she stalked out of the kitchen. She could feel his gaze burning into her back and mentally shrugged. Pushing her emotions down, she began formulating a plan. 

It was time for her to leave. 


	7. Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a fairly short chapter, but please bear with me :)   
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------

Adrenaline pumped through Sarah as she sat silently on the bed. Two days had passed since her argument with Brahms and in those two days she had been cautiously packing her essentials in a bag small enough for her to carry as she ran away from the manor. 

Yes. She was literally going to run away. Had she not been a nervous mess, she would have snickered at that. She mentally went through a checklist of items that she needed. First aid kit, passport, wallet, emergency blanket, compact umbrella, energy bars… She had concluded that there were no cameras in the house, so that was one obstacle out of the way.

Getting up, she padded to the window and stared out into the night. It was unusually silent, no wind, no rain…nothing. Just a large full moon in the expansive black sky. It was eerie. And it seemed as if the world outside knew that something crucial was about to take place.

Her mind drifted back to Brahms. _He would be all alone in the manor,_ she thought with a heavy heart. The idea of him being isolated sent a pang of guilt through her chest. A small part of her didn’t want to leave him. She scoffed at the thought. _Yeah, you’re so damaged. Being around him is not healthy. It’s bad enough that you find him attractive!_

Unwittingly, her thoughts went back to the kitchen. When he pressed himself against her and she felt his length through his pants…. A small flicker of arousal grew at the memories and she pushed it away. _Falling for your kidnapper, huh? See how well that worked out for you? Sympathy for the devil sucks._

She glanced down at her watch. Midnight. It was time.

Grabbing the small black bag, she gave herself a once over. Black trench coat, black skinny jeans, black gloves, all to help her blend into the night.  
Slowly, she made her way to her bedroom door and gently opened it. She silently made her way to the front door, heart thudding in her chest. She had to be both fast and quiet in her movements. It was rather difficult and add to that having to be alert of movement and sound, she was incredibly on edge.

Carefully opening the front door, she slipped out and shut it, before running off into the night.

**\---------------------------**

Brahms watched with disbelief as Sarah sprinted down the driveway. Had he not been consumed with panic and fury, he would have admitted that a small part of him was impressed with how she managed to leave undetected. No one had managed to do that before. 

Bounding down the steps to the attic he, raced to the front door, flung it open and gave chase. His muscles burned in protest as he forced them to move faster. _Faster! She was getting away!_ A roar of pained rage left his throat as he neared her. It was the sound that a wounded animal made. A tear slipped down his cheek as he closed the distance between them. This was just like his dream. She was abandoning him just like the others. “SARAH, GET BACK HERE!”

She was only a few meters away from the gate to the driveway. At her name, Sarah paused long enough to whip around and the sight shocked her. She had never seen a human being looking so desperate. It was enough for her to freeze in her tracks, costing her a few precious seconds. 

That was all he needed. A growl escaped him as he realised she stopped. _MINE._ He was close enough to reach out and grab her. 

Sarah let out a cry and bolted to the side when she saw his outstretched hand, the sound of Brahms’ rage following her. Dodging his grasp, she raced to the woods surrounding the house, hoping to blend in and make him lose her trail. Panic overtook her at the thought of being caught. Who knew what he would do to punish her once she was in his hands again? Her grip tightened on the bag in desperation. 

Brahms let out a roar of rage as she dashed away from him after eluding his grasp. She was more agile than he gave her credit for. His eyes narrowed as he bolted after her and fuelled by anguish, he closed the distance. Reaching out he grasped her coat and jerked her backwards. She gave a panicked cry before losing her footing and falling backwards. 

A surge of protectiveness flooded him and he wrapped his arms around her before they both fell to the ground, with him absorbing the brunt of the impact.  
Sarah lay on top of Brahms, stunned by the impact of the fall. Too exhausted to move, she didn’t struggle as he flipped her onto her back before straddling her and pinning her hands on either side of her head. 

They both said nothing for a while and stayed there just staring at each other while their breathing evened out. 

“You tried to escape.” His voice was low and rough, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise pleasurably.

“Yes,” she replied, slightly breathless. From exertion or arousal? She couldn’t tell any more. 

“You tried to leave me.”

“Yes.”

“Even though you know you’re mine.”

A pause before stretched between them for a few seconds before she answered. “…Yes. I know.”

There it was. She had finally accepted that she was his. Brahms gave a low growl before crushing his lips to hers in a punishing kiss. She struggled under him and he nipped at her lower lip in warning before she stilled. She struggled to breath, his musk surrounding her and overpowering her senses. It was too much, making her whimper in his mouth. Breaking the kiss, he stared at her, his eyes glittering with arousal. “Kiss me back,” he commanded. 

Her eyes widened in apprehension at the order and she pressed her lips to his. She didn’t know why she did it, but she placed a chaste kiss on his lips before retreating.

Brahms watched her carefully, pleased with the slightly glazed look in her eyes. She was clearly inexperienced. He could tell that much from her kisses. He brushed his thumb over her lips before pulling her up with him. “We will discuss this in the morning.” His tone was low. Ominous.

She grabbed her bag and silently followed him back to the house. He walked her to her room and closed the door behind her. A small, definite click told her that he locked her in the bedroom. 

She sighed and placed her hands in her head. She deserved that. After betraying his trust, she would have been surprised if he didn’t lock the door. But what surprised her most was his kiss. She could feel the desperation in it as he slanted his lips over hers. Absentmindedly, she touched her fingers to her mouth. 

It was her first kiss.


	8. Penance

The first rays of dawn broke through the morning sky, illuminating the surroundings. Brahms let out a yawn and stretched as he watched the sun break through the clouds and rise. He was feeling strangely at peace and he had a suspicion it was due to the events of the previous night. She was his. She had finally acknowledged the fact. 

A small smile graced his face.

He made his way to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Even though she had surrendered herself to him, he still had to punish her for her actions. Raking his hands through his dark curls, he came up with an array of punishments, smile deepening at the thought of Sarah submitting to him.

_Oh, this is going to be so much fun…._

How would he punish her though? She was already not allowed to leave the house. His brow furrowed. He could force her to not interact with Alastair…. but he had a sneaking suspicion that it would push her away from him. If anything, he had come to learn that if he showed Sarah a small amount of kindness, she would come to him. Like a moth to a flame. 

Pushing back an errant lock of hair, he gave a snort of disbelief. Her naivety knew no bounds. It was almost as if she believed him to be a good person. As if he was capable of such a thing. He would go so far as to say that, deep down inside, a small part of her trusted him in some way. 

Brahms’ eyes widened in realisation. He could use this to his advantage. 

Turning his gaze back to the mirror, he studied his injuries. Cuts and bruises were sporadically scattered on his back and up his left side. He lifted his left arm and winced slightly as the muscles painfully flexed. Eyes filled with anticipation, he hastily stepped into the shower and cleaned himself, before silently making his way to her room and unlocking her door. He stepped in and was mildly surprised. She was already awake and in the shower, softly humming to herself. Images of her naked and wet slid through his mind. Tiny rivers of water coursing over her body, droplets of water tipping her breasts and a slight flush on her cheeks from the heat of the water….

He would follow those drops with the tip of his tongue, teasing her. He wet his lips at the thought and shoved the fantasy aside. Now was not the time. The sooner he put his plan into action, the sooner she would be beneath him. Naked and writhing. He  
grabbed a chair and settled himself in the opposite end of the room, hidden in the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

Sarah yawned as she stepped out of the shower and dried herself off, the warm water failing to wake her up. If anything, it had the opposite effect. She wanted to just melt into her bed. She pulled on a chemise and stepped out into her bedroom, goosebumps forming on her skin from the cool air. Gently massaging lotion into her skin, she breathed a sigh of relief at the tension that was slowly fading away with each firm stroke on her flesh. Although she had landed on Brahms, the jolt of the fall had her slightly bruised in certain places. There was a small bruise on her hips and shins, causing her to grimace. 

_Brahms…_

She had fallen on Brahms when he yanked her backwards. She had landed on him because he wrapped himself around her to…protect her? She sucked in a breath at the memory. _He didn’t want me to get hurt…_ Her heart fluttered in her chest at the thought. 

Shaking her head violently at the sentiment, she dropped on the bed, staring at the ceiling. If she had bruises from not even hitting the ground, he probably had received the worst of the impact. A small amount of guilt welled up in her chest. He must have really gotten hurt.

A creaking sound echoed softly through the room. 

Sarah froze, eyes nervously scanning the surroundings. She couldn’t see much, not without her glasses which were on the bedside table. She narrowed her gaze, desperately trying to focus without the help of her frames. Her gaze stopped in the corner of the room, an area where the shadows seemed…concentrated. 

He was here.

“…Brahms?” She winced at the sound of her voice. Weak. Submissive.

She watched with wide eyes as he slipped out from the shadows and into the barely lit room. She hastily stepped backwards and blindly groped around for her glasses. See him. She needed to see him properly. Jamming the frames on her face, she looked back at him and forced herself to be still. Very still.

His stance was predatory, muscles tight with anticipation. He was definitely expecting her to bolt. Stomach knotting with anxiety, Sarah slowly inched forward until she was a meter away from him. “What are you doing here, Brahms?” she asked softly. _Good. Nice and easy. Keep it together._ It was quite unsettling to discover that he tended to hide and observe her. The way a predator would when sighting its prey.

Brahms took a deliberate step forward, a part of him enjoying the way she nervously looked at him and swallowed. “I came to punish you.” 

Her lovely brown eyes widened and she slowly inched backwards. “W-what?” 

“You heard me,” he growled, slowly backing her into a corner. “You need to be punished.” He planted a hand on either side of her head against the wall, effectively caging her. 

To her absolute dismay and utter mortification, Sarah felt her calves weaken and stomach tighten at his words. She let out a small squeak when he shoved his hand between her legs and roughly cupped her heat. She moaned and squirmed slightly in his hold. Her hands grabbed his wrists, a vain attempt at pushing him away.

“Hm?” His eyes glittered with satisfaction. “You liked that, didn’t you?” he purred in her ear. She gasped at his words and looked away in shame. The hand between her legs shifted slightly until his thumb applied just enough pressure on her clit, causing a wave of pleasure to course through her body. Brahms admired the way she delicately shuddered in his hold and the small sound of pleasure that escaped her lips before she could stop herself. Her eyes flew to his in shock and then fluttered closed in barely concealed delight as he bent to whisper in her ear. “I know exactly how to punish you.”

That was her only warning.

In a flash of movement, he jerked her from the wall and pinned her to her bed, easily countering her futile attempts at breaking free of his hold. Pinning her hands above her head and pressing his hips into hers, he fisted his hand in her hair and pulled to expose the expanse of her delicate neck. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her unique scent. She froze in his hold, her body taut at the unexpected action. 

Brahms breathed in deeply, the outside world melting away to nothingness. It was just Sarah and himself, alone in this instant. He closed his eyes, savouring the moment. Her scent drove him crazy, making him dizzy with lust and filling him with the need to make her his. “You belong to me,” he whispered raggedly, before fixing his lips on her soft skin and sucking. Hard. She writhed in his hold as he pulled on the delicate skin of her neck, mewling in pleasure and pain. “Please. Stop,” she begged, voice laced with despair. It was too much. The contrast of being trapped between Brahms, the soft bed, and his lips was overwhelming her senses. 

“I will decide when to stop,” he growled in her ear, before looking up at her face. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and a small blush tinged her cheeks. A scattering of dark bruises marred her skin where he sucked on her. Marking her as his. 

_Beautiful._

Brahms noted with smug satisfaction that her nipples were hard and pressing against her chemise. He smirked inwardly and leant over her, his face inches away from hers. “There’s more of where this came from,” he murmured, lips nearly brushing against hers. “It’s only a matter of time before you’re irrevocably mine.” He punctuated his words with a thrust of his hips, his hardness pressing against her softness. She mewled softly and squirmed beneath him, but never did she once push him away. Had he been alone, he would have howled with joy. Lightly brushing his lips against hers, he released her and sauntered out of the room. He paused only to burn into his memory the image of her sitting up on the bed, hair lightly tousled and a strap falling off her shoulder as she stared at him leaving.

He laughed darkly and raked a hand through his hair as he made his way down the corridor. When he was done with her, she wouldn’t know what had hit her.


	9. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some semblance of a normal working schedule this week, so please enjoy another chapter :)  
> Also, if you have time, some feedback would be appreciated. I am quite new to writing fanfiction so I am always looking to improve ^_^  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------

Shambles. Her mind was in shambles. And she only had herself to blame. Sarah stood in front of the mirror, gazing blankly at the bruises Brahms had left on her, mind whirring with unfinished thoughts. 

She considered herself an intelligent young woman with more common sense than most people nowadays. Yet here she was, in the middle of the English countryside, alone with a conundrum of a man who had the makings of a villain. And said villain was intent on having her in his bed. And she did not mind. Not. One. Bit. A small sound of denial escaped her lips. _Why am I like this?_

She sighed at herself and brushed her fingertips over the marks scattered on her neck.

The sane part of her screamed at the idea of being with Brahms. But with each passing day, that sane voice was becoming weaker with only the twisted part of her getting stronger. Enticing her with sweet possibilities. 

_What if Brahms changed…_  
_He’s intelligent yet primitive…. Being his would be amazing…_  
_…Aren’t you tired of everything? It’s why you left, isn’t it?_

She violently shook her head at that last thought. No. Not now. She had other, more pressing issues to deal with now. Family can wait. The twisted part of her cackled before goading her some more. _You have daddy issues. That’s why you want Brahms so bad. You’ve always wanted to be controlled…._

Her lips parted slightly at the thought. Being his? She would be here with him. Away from everyone and their…complications. She could be….free. 

Clarity got the better of her and she snorted at herself. Freedom with Brahms? The man can barely handle her interacting with another male, let alone allow her to do as she pleased. It would be best if she just accepted the situation as is and tried to make the most of it. 

_I could get to know him better. Find out what makes him tick._

Yawning, she made her way to the wardrobe and changed into some casual clothes. Tired. She was so tired. She barely got any sleep last night, adrenaline still pumping through her from the events that had just occurred. It was why she was up so early in the morning. 

Shooting out of the room, she hurried down the corridor and into the kitchen. The place was empty. Not that she minded – she needed some time alone. The entire meal was spent wondering where he was. Even in his apparent absence, she knew better than to attempt a second escape. She glanced out the window, sipping at a cup of peppermint tea. The rain was heavy. It had started out as a clear morning but soon turned grey and stormy. Sarah loved stormy weather. Something about it made her feel calm and safe. 

After clearing up, she walked into the study and halted. Breath catching in her throat, she stood in the doorway as she watched Brahms’ imposing figure outlined by the warm glow cast from the fireplace. _He is… beautiful._ Eyes widening at the shocking thought, she shook her head, a vain attempt at trying to clear her mind. 

Sensing her presence behind him, Brahms slowly turned around. “Had a good breakfast, Sarah?” he murmured. 

She nodded slowly, unsure what to make of his behaviour. First, he mauls her and now he wants to have a normal conversation? _Easy. Just go with the flow._

“Good. I require your help with a task.” His eyes flickered over her, lingering at the bruises on the crook of her neck. She flushed and looked away, her hand nervously rubbing at the marked skin.

In a fluid movement, he removed his shirt and gestured for her to come to him. Sarah gulped nervously and cast her gaze to the ceiling. Half of her wanted to turn tail and flee, while the other half pleaded with her to move forward. The result? Her standing stock still in the doorway, tensed and ready to take flight if needed.

“Sarah,” Brahms warned. 

“Yes?” Her voice was small. And she was still looking heavenward. 

“Come.”

Warily, she made her way forward, focusing on the fire behind him and not on the fact that he was shirtless and the fire cast enticing shadows over the hard planes of muscle. She broke out into a nervous sweat. _Was it hot in here?_

“I cannot reach the wounds on my back. Could you clean and bandage them if needed?” His voice was low and calm.

“S-sure.” And hers? High pitched, ending on a squeak.

Brahms held out a first aid kit and she cautiously took it from him, forcing herself to be calm. “Turn your back towards me please.” Her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied his back. He had some bruising. And surprisingly, only a few grazes on his skin. _Hm, tough guy._ Taking an alcohol wipe, she gently dabbed at the cuts.

Brahms sucked in a breath at the stinging sensation. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t tried to run away.” His tone was accusatory. 

Sarah felt her temper flare. So this was now her fault?? “And if you hadn’t threatened to rape me, I wouldn’t have!” she snapped back. “You don’t need any bandages, you mainly have bruising and a few shallow cuts which need to breath. Nothing more,” she bit out. She began to walk out of the room but stopped when she felt his hand close around hers. 

“Did you really mean that?” His eyes were nearly black and glittered with emotion.

“Mean…what?”

His grasp tightened on hers, almost like he didn’t want to let go of her. “That if I hadn’t threatened you, then you wouldn’t have ran?”

Sarah paused, staring at him. She had really implied that when she said it. But did she mean it? She thought back to how she had little to no desire to leave until he made his threat. Then, the need to flee had overwhelmed her. “Yes, I did,” was her soft reply.

“Come here.” His voice was practically a growl. Brahms tugged her forward before enveloping her in a hug. 

Growing up, Sarah was an incredibly private and introverted individual who didn’t like being touched. And now in her adulthood, she found herself craving physical affection. A small sound of surprise escaped her lips before she could stop herself. Sarah stiffened in his arms for a few seconds before she felt herself slowly relaxing in his hold. It felt…good. His arms tightened around her and she felt herself being pressed flush against him. She sighed in delight and unwittingly pressed closer to him. She was starved for human touch. Her eyes glazed over and she slowly wrapped her arms around him, trying to be as close as possible. 

Brahms felt his heart thunder in his chest at her actions. She actually pushed herself closer to me. He smiled in wonder at the new sensation. A female willingly holding herself close to him. Reaching up, he gently played with a lock of her soft brown hair, winding it around his finger as he relished the moment. He could feel her breasts pressing against him through the thin shirt she wore – the only barrier between the two of them. He groaned inwardly. _She isn’t wearing a bra._

There was nothing stopping him from stripping her and laying her on the carpet before sinking between her soft thighs. Making her moan and gasp for him…

His hand twitched, hovering above the hem of her shirt. 

_Do it,_ the insidious voice inside his head whispered. _She will come to love it, come to love your cock._ He squeezed his eyes shut in desperation, trying to push away the sinister thought.  
_No. She’s different!_

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Brahms reluctantly removed his hands from her and withdrew from her embrace. “That’s enough,” he said sharply.

Sarah stared at him, slightly confused for a few seconds before flushing red with embarrassment. “Oh yes. Of course. My bad,” she said glumly. She was a fool for thinking that there might have been something more between them. She was nothing more than his captive. A toy for his amusement. Nothing. More. 

Reality bites. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.” Sarah practically ran from the study, leaving Brahms alone in front of the fireplace. 

Brahms heard a door slam shut and let out a low growl of frustration before turning to punch the wall in a sudden burst of anger. She was right here! And he couldn’t have what he wanted! Sinking to the floor, he stared at the dancing flames as he fought to control his baser instincts.

Well. Not yet anyway.

When he had stolen her panties, he vowed to make her his no matter what he had to do. Now, he had a better idea.

A much more _fun_ idea. 

Brahms grinned wickedly into the flames. He was going to seduce her.


	10. Quid Pro Quo

Sarah’s chest knotted slightly with anxiety as she waited in the kitchen. Alastair was expected to arrive with the weekly groceries, and while she was happy for the company, she was not looking forward to dealing with Brahms’ attitude afterwards. The man in question was nowhere to be found, choosing to vanish after breakfast. She sighed inwardly. _I need to work with him on that._

The faint sound of knocking broke the silence. _Ah. He’s here._

Hurrying to the front door, she yanked it open to find Alastair shooting her a warm smile. “Good afternoon, Sarah,” he greeted warmly, bags of groceries at him feet. 

Sarah returned his smile, her anxiety melting away at his grin. “Afternoon, Alastair! How are you?” 

“Not too bad. Not many deliveries to do today, which is unusual.” He gave a soft laugh. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. What about yourself?” He carried the bags into the kitchen. 

“Ah, so-so. Not much to do here, you know?” she replied, packing away the items. Back home, Sarah didn’t have a delivery boy, having to do the shopping herself. _Like a normal person._ She snickered softly.

“Something funny?” A small smile spread on his face.

“Ah,” she paused. “Nothing really. Just thinking that I’m not used to this.” She waved her hand towards him and the bags.

“Not used to…. Groceries?” he teased.

She gave a small laugh. “No! You. The deliveries. It’s kind of odd, you know?”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I know what you’re getting at. But the Heelshires have been receiving deliveries from us for nearly two decades.”

“I see.” She gestured towards the mugs. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh, some tea would be appreciated.”

“No worries.” A few minutes later, they both sat at the counter, steaming mugs of tea in front of them.

Alastair broke the silence. “You know, I didn’t think that they would get another nanny. Not after what happened to Greta.” 

“What do you mean?” Sarah’s brow furrowed at his words. She knew that there was another nanny before her, but didn’t know the reason why she left. 

Alastair regarded her curiously. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” 

“Well, Greta ran away.” 

Sarah felt her eyes widen. “Ran away? From what?” 

“I don’t like gossip but I think you should at least be aware of what happened to the previous nanny. Just so that you can be prepared.” He took a sip of his tea. “Rumor has it that she was not alone in the house. That Brahms was very much alive and attacked her.”

Sarah felt her heart rate quicken. “Brahms?” she said weakly.

“Yes. Brahms. He died in a fire twenty years ago, though. So, it’s impossible that he’d be alive right now. It was an…unusual series of events, you know?”

“In what way?”

“Well, he supposedly killed Emily Cribbs in the forest out back, but no evidence could be found. And on that very day, he died in a fire. A horrific way for a nine-year-old to die, isn’t it?” He paused and looked at her. “You really didn’t know any of this?” he asked, surprised.

“I’m not from around here. When I arrived, I wasn’t told much,” she explained lamely. _Dear God, was Brahms really in a fire when he was just a child? That would explain so much!_

Alastair bowed his head slightly. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she murmured, mind whirring with the new information. Some pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place.

Alastair rose and washed his mug. “Well, I have to get going. But I hope you enjoyed the company.” He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully.

Sarah snickered. “Always.” She walked him to the door. 

“You know, we could catch a movie sometime?” he offered.

“I would love to Alastair, but….” She paused. “But I’m not allowed to leave the house. It was one of the rules I agreed to when I came here,” she finished sadly.

Alastair’s brows shot up. “Are you serious?” 

She nodded slowly. “Unfortunately, yes.” 

“Well, that’s not right.” He frowned at her. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

Alastair pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket, hastily scribbling something down before handing it to her. “If you ever need help, or find yourself in trouble, call me on this number.” He reached out and ruffled her hair. “Be safe,” he called out as he drove away.

Sarah sighed mournfully. _Why couldn’t I fall for a guy like him?_

She made her way to the study, the urge to curl up in front of a fire overwhelming her. It was a lot of information to take in. At least she knew one thing – Alastair was a fountain of knowledge. One that she needed to occasionally tap into. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she was itching to know more. More about the Heelshires. More about Emily. More about Brahms.

_Emily… Nine-year-old Brahms killed her. I find that hard to believe…_  
She struck a match and stared into the flames as the quickly grew, engulfing the wood and bathing the room with a warm glow. Curling up on the sofa she closed her eyes, trying to piece together the information she had. 

_Brahms supposedly died in a fire twenty years ago. It was the same day that Emily Cribbs died. The Heelshires have been receiving grocery deliveries for twenty years…_ Her eyes opened in realisation. _Did the Heelshires request deliveries because they didn’t want anyone to know about Brahms? That he was alive? Did they hide him in the house? But wouldn’t that make it easier for him to be discovered accidentally?_

She gasped in shock.  
_Unless they hid him in a basement or an attic. No one would lock up their child, right?_ “It’s not possible,” she whispered to herself.

“What’s not possible?” came a deep voice from behind her.

“Brahms,” she squeaked, shooting off the sofa and onto her feet. 

“What’s not possible, Sarah?” he repeated. 

Sarah watched him warily, not sure if she should directly ask him what happened or do some of her own digging. _Just be honest. Ask him upfront. Can you imagine what would happen if he found out that you went behind his back?_ She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Brahms, what happened to you?” 

Brahms tilted his head slightly to the side, regarding her and her question. To be honest, it surprised him. None of the others had thought to simply _ask him._ Yet here Sarah was, standing before him, obviously nervous but standing her ground with her question. _She didn’t snoop around like the ones before her._ “Hm, that’s quite the question, Little Sarah.” He stalked over to her and tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “But, if you want something from me, you must give me something in return,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over her jawline. “A quid pro quo, if you will.” 

He released her and took a step back, his stance relaxed, but his gaze challenging. A small smirk spread over his features, as if he knew she would turn tail and run. _Asshole. He's mocking me._ Sarah stubbornly set her jaw and met his challenging gaze with her own. “Fine. Name your price.” It took a lot for her to rise to his challenge, but once she saw the strange glint in his eyes, she felt her courage vanish. _He looks…hungry?_ She swallowed nervously and took a small step back. 

What had she gotten herself into?


	11. Glimpse

Looking back at things, accepting his challenge wasn’t the brightest idea that Sarah had come up with. She had practically given permission to a quite-possibly-unstable-man to do whatever and request whatever he wanted from her. However, she also knew that if she wanted to progress with said man, she had to do this. In her twenty-three years on this planet, this was the most dangerous thing she had ever done.

She inhaled shakily. “So? What’s it going to be?”

Ah. There it was. False bravado. Embarrassed, she inwardly cringed at herself and waited for his answer. The man himself was silent, his gaze piercing through her. She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t itching to know what was going on in that head of his. _Something twisted, probably._

Brahms’ mind was running a mile a minute, flashing back to… _things_ …he had done in the past. The memories came rushing back at him, some more unpleasant ones that he tried to suppress.  
_She will know everything. Everything. Will she still run?_

If he told her and she ran away, condemning him and his existence, he didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. She was his… last hope. He swallowed nervously at the thought, fighting to maintain his impassive façade.  
But if she didn’t run…... The idea of finally having someone to share his innermost thoughts with filled him with relief. Someone accepting him for who he is and attempting to understand him. His heart pounded in his chest.  
Well. There’s only one way to find out. 

“A kiss every night,” he whispered. It seemed simple enough, but the act itself was intimate. Seductive. And Brahms planned to use it to his advantage to bind her to him. 

Sarah furrowed her brows, unsure if she heard him correctly. “A what?” 

“You are to kiss me every night,” he stated, in a louder tone. “That is my price.”

“But, I do that already,” she said, slightly confused.

“I want a proper kiss from now on.” His voice was gruff and low.

Sarah flushed at his words. A proper kiss? But she didn’t know how! “But –“ she started before he cut her off.

“I will teach you.” His eyes glittered. “That is my condition. Do you accept it or not?” 

Utterly shocked at his request, Sarah stood before him and said nothing. She had the strangest feeling in her gut – that this was a test of sorts. Well. That and the fact that if she agreed, she would never go back to how things were. That their dynamic, their _relationship_ would forever change.  
_Hm, to lock lips or not to lock lips with the possible-crazy-dude?_

Hell, she wasn’t even going to pretend that she didn’t feel that small spark of excitement when she heard his words. It was a small spark, but it was still there. And it made her feel… alive.  
_Live a little dangerously_ , the voice inside her head whispered enticingly, _do something completely crazy._  
For some inane reason, she thought back to how she had her heart broken every time she chose to let a guy get close. She inwardly shook her head, dispersing the painful recollection. _You’ll be fine this time_ , the voice whispered. _Trust me._

Sarah took a deep breath. “Fine. You have yourself a deal.”

“Mm, good girl,” he praised. He gestured for her to come to him and when she did, he patted her on the head, playing with the brown locks. He felt, rather than heard, the small sigh of contentment that left her at his actions.  
Though, in all honesty, he was unsure of how to proceed with her. Brahms’ experience with women was…limited to say the least. Being locked up in a manor for most of one’s life tended to have that effect. That wasn’t to say he didn’t know what made a female tick. He had a garnered a fair amount of knowledge regarding that aspect of life – all thanks to his parents’ efforts at educating him. But, having put his knowledge into practice…. Well, there weren’t many opportunities, to say the least. Besides, if Sarah knew what he had done, she would have run screaming for the hills. It would be better to just ask her what she wanted.

He withdrew his hand, and stared at her. “What do you want to know?”

“What happened to you?” she repeated. 

Brahms let out a shout of laughter, the sound of it making her cringe. It was not a happy laugh. If anything, it was mocking and full of pain. “Many things have happened to me, Sarah. You would have to be a bit more specific than that!” He stalked away from her and stood by the fireplace. The dancing flames highlighted the uneven skin on his face, making him seem much more sinister than he usually appeared. 

Her gaze softened. “How were you burned? I heard you were trapped in a fire when you were nine.”

Brahms raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “Alastair,” he spat out. “Of course, you would hear that. They all love gossiping about me.” His hands shook with the rage building in him. Always gossiping. Always spreading lies because it was far more exciting than the truth. Part of this was their fault.

_Hate. Hate. HATE –_

“Brahms…” Her voice was low and gentle, breaking into his thoughts. “I’m asking you because I’d rather hear the story from you.” Her brow furrowed in concern. For one moment, she had a suspicion that he was lost in his thoughts, unable to hear her. 

He stilled at her words, mind clearing of the revulsion he felt for those responsible. The truth. She asked him for the truth. For his story. No one had, before. Not until her. Brahms exhaled shakily and lowered himself onto the couch, head in his hands. “Before I begin, you have to promise me one thing.” His voice was hoarse. The kind of tone someone makes when their throat is constricted with emotion. 

“What is it?”

“Don’t run.”

Sarah felt her heartbeat pick up and her eyes widen. Alarm bells went off in her head. Sirens screeching and the instinct to just run as fast as her legs could carry her, filled her entire being. _Don’t run? DON’T RUN??? What kind of promise is that?_ She gulped and opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. 

Brahms looked up at her lack of response, only to find her nod in agreement to his condition. To his surprise, however, she made her way to him and sat beside him on the couch, her legs curling up on the soft cushion. She looked at him expectantly, though her body was tense. He could tell that she was fighting with herself to stay here and listen to his story. And for that, he would be eternally grateful to her. 

He sighed. “It was a trap.”

“It was a what?” she echoed, unsure of where he started with his story. 

“I was burnt on purpose.”

“You were what???” she shouted. “Why?!”

“Because I killed her,” he whispered. “I most definitely killed her.”

Sarah felt as if her whole world tilted on its axis, before freezing in place. A multitude of emotions flowed through her. Anger, curiosity, fear, shock. Really. What was she to do with a murder confession? She chose to remain silent as he spoke, forcing herself to calm down. 

“The fire…it was planned by her parents.” Memories of flames engulfing him, skin melting off his face, the stench of burnt human flesh filling his lungs… The pain. So much pain. His hands shook at the recollection only to subside when her soft hands closed over his own. She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It’s ok. If it hurts, you don’t have to tell me.” Her hand trembled slightly. “At least not now, anyway,” she said softly. She was at war with herself. Part of her was dying to know what had happened. What had made Brahms the way he is. But the other part wanted to protect and comfort him. The latter won. 

They sat in silence for a while, each one lost in their own thoughts. The only sound was the fireplace occasionally crackling.

Sarah was the first to break the silence. “I’ll go and make us something to drink,” she announced, while making her way to the door. “Be right back.”

Staring at the ceiling, Brahms pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He finally had someone that wanted to listen to his side of the story, and what had happened? He couldn’t get it out! Letting out a sound of annoyance, he threw another log into the flames, watching them lick at the wood. 

_Pathetic. I am absolutely pathetic._

Gentle footsteps halted his self-loathing. Sarah was back with two steaming mugs. “Here.” He took the mug from her and sniffed at the contents. It smelled like…herbal tea? He arched a quizzical brow at her.

“It’s chamomile. I thought it would help calm you.” She looked embarrassed and took a quick sip, mug covering the growing blush on her face. 

He shot her a small teasing smile. “I thought chamomile was for helping you sleep?”

“Oh, bite me,” she retorted, playfully. “It’s the thought that counts.” 

Brahms gave a small laugh. “Thank you, Little Sarah.” Her kind words had warmth spreading through him. 

Sarah sipped at her tea while watching him over the rim of her mug. His features were slowly looking less pained. I’m glad to see that he’s returning to his normal self. Maybe I should change the subject? “Tell me something happy about yourself,” she murmured. 

“Something….happy?” He looked at her, confused at both her choice of words and the question itself. 

She nodded emphatically. “Yes. Something happy. Like a pleasant memory. A hobby. Anything really.”

Brahms stayed quiet for a few minutes. “I used to play the piano.” It was one of the few good memories he had. He used to spend afternoons learning the keys and practicing, laughing along with his mother when he made a mistake.

Sarah smiled. “Really? Could you play for me sometime?” 

“Mm. Maybe.”

She beamed at him. “Thanks!” She took another sip of her tea. “You know, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance.” She shot him a mildly embarrassed look. “Like ballroom dancing. It’s so beautiful and elegant.” She sighed wistfully. “I didn’t have the money nor the time to take lessons.” Sarah placed her empty mug on the floor, next to the couch. “Now, I love to read. And daydream. I sometimes get lost inside my head with the stories that I make.” She shot him a sheepish grin. “If I’m talking too much, let me know.”

Brahms shook his head. “No. Please continue.” He reached over and grabbed her hand, absentmindedly playing with her fingers. The act itself was innocent, but held underlying tones of intimacy. “I find your stories endearing.” 

She flushed at his words and looked down at their entwined fingers. In all her life, Sarah had never thought that the tips of her fingers could be sensitive to another’s touch. She read about it in the romance novels she secretly borrowed, but just assumed that it was highly exaggerated. Now, though, tiny sparks of pleasure radiated from the tips Brahms was caressing. She let out a soft sigh of contentment. 

“I’m finding it hard to focus with you doing that,” she breathed. 

Brahms inwardly smirked. “Then that means I’m doing a good job.” 

She let out a small giggle. “Cocky.” Sarah turned and looked at him. His brow was still slightly furrowed with stress. A surge of pity and remorse flowed through her. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be hurting right now. She had to make it up to him somehow…. Sarah patted her lap. “Lie down.” He froze and looked at her, perplexed by her actions. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I’m not going to hurt you. Trust me.”

Warily, he lowered himself until his head rested on her soft thighs. Her fingers threaded through his hair, playing with the soft curls. _Mm, this is pleasant. No one has played with my hair for a very long time._

“J-just so you know,” she stammered, “I haven’t done this for anyone.” _Oh great. That’s just great, Sarah. Ruin the mood with your stupid mouth._ She inwardly groaned in embarrassment at her words. 

Brahms chuckled at her obvious mortification. “I appreciate the special treatment.” 

She blushed furiously. “You’re welcome.” Her fingers lightly massaged his scalp, nails raking pleasurably over the skin. Brahms closed his eyes and let out a purr of contentment.

She continued with her massage for a few minutes, before noticing that his breathing had slowed down and became even. “Brahms?” she whispered. “Hey. Hey, Brahms?” No response. _Aw man! What if I need to use the bathroom?_ Sarah looked down at his sleeping face and gave him a small smile. _Hmm, he kind of looks like a princess?_ Cautiously, she waved her hand in front of his face a few times, before leaning over and placing a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.  
A blush slowly rose to cover her cheeks as she realised what she just did.  
_Oh my God._

Laughter bubbled up in her throat at her actions. Closing her eyes, Sarah fought to stifle it as she twirled her fingers in his soft hair while the fireplace crackled cheerfully. It wasn’t long before she, too, drifted off, weariness overtaking her.


	12. Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with me! I really appreciate it.  
> As always, please enjoy this chapter and leave feedback on anything I could improve on or anything in particular that you enjoyed. I love reading your comments :)
> 
> Important Note -  
> I will be on holiday from the 1st - 23rd of November, so I won't have access to my work. Please hang on until I can upload again when I return :) 
> 
> Without further ado, here's Chapter 12  
> ( ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡° )

Quietly making his way through the walls, Brahms entered his secret room. Although he slept in his old room, he sometimes came here to think. It was…comforting in a strange way. He settled down on the bed, arms folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. Sarah cared for him – he would have to be an idiot to not realise that. And she didn’t try to push him for more than what he had already revealed. 

His smile faded when he realised that she still didn’t know all the details. Details like, when he started to mature, his father had explained to him the intricacies of having children.  
Or how he used to spend his lonely nights wandering within the walls of the manor, exploring every nook and cranny of the house, when he accidentally found his father’s hidden collection of adult magazines. 

Breathing in deeply, he smiled to himself. He could still remember it. The feeling of awe and embarrassment all wrapped up in one feverish package as he flipped through the pages. His hands had trembled slightly while doing so. Even at thirteen, he knew he had discovered something he shouldn’t have. But he was so terribly glad that he did. 

The magazines managed to suffice for some time. But soon he needed more. More stimulation. More explicit content. More.  
And so, he moved onto adult films. 

The sounds, the movement, the settings… he was hooked. He discovered numerous things about himself during this period in his life. One, he was sorely missing out on experiencing the real thing by being locked up inside. Two, his tastes drifted towards submissive females. Three, he was going to need a woman. And soon.

Brahms had managed to push down his need for a female for some time. But not for long. Eventually, as he aged, his aggression grew. His parents soon started their hunt for a nanny, not wanting to be at the receiving end of his frustrations any longer.  
The first one was Elizabeth. Young, blonde and pretty. And an escort. He sucked in a breath at the memory.  
Mother and Father had thought it best for him to have his first experience with a…. veteran in the field. It turned out to be the most mind-blowing night of his life.  
He had genuinely liked Elizabeth. Or Liza as he called her. She had a wicked sense of humor, could cook up a storm and sucked dick like a starving woman. The only downside? He knew she was playing a part. As soon as the money stopped coming, she would move onto the next client. Which was exactly what had happened. And a few days after abandoning ship, she died in a car crash. The police found evidence of cut brake lines but could not find the suspect.

After Elizabeth, his parents had designed a doll. They based the appearance on his 10-year-old self and used it to lure a small stream of nannies into the Heelshire Manor. Brahms scowled at the memory. The doll had received everything he didn’t. His mother’s affection, the attention of the pretty nannies.  
The arrival of the doll meant that Brahms was banished into the walls, no longer able to walk freely within the manor. His home had turned into a prison. Rules were set in place. Rules that both himself and the current nanny had to follow. 

The first time he had killed a nanny, it was an accident. Starved for the intimacies between a man and a woman, Brahms had snuck into her room using the secret door, and forced himself on her. Blinded by rage, a scuffle followed which ended in her being suffocated by a pillow. It was at that moment that Brahms knew he was a terrible person. 

A sense of despair filled him and he sat upright, head in his hands. Her name was Lily and she was only 20 years old. He used to watch her from behind the walls. She liked to sing, even though her voice was terrible.  
Morosely, he trudged to the shower and began to wash away the day’s dust. _Why are these memories coming back now?_

The hot water streamed over his body as he recalled the events of the past. The constant fear and rejection fed the hate within him. After Lily, a slow rage burned in him. Rage at his parents, at Emily Cribbs, at himself… He had taken this out on every nanny after. They refused his advances, too disgusted by his appearance, too scared of him. He even had a mask designed to hide his burns, but that still wasn’t enough. It only served to fuel their fear when they finally discovered that he was a real, living, breathing man and not just a doll. 

He considered himself a simple man. All he wanted from them was companionship. A normal life. But apparently, it was too much to ask. 

Drying himself, he changed into some clean clothes and stared out the window. It was dark outside, stars dotting the midnight sky.  
When Greta had arrived, he entertained the notion that she might be different from the rest. But she turned out be just as predictable as the ones before. The only difference? She had asked for help from him, believing him to be a spirit. He let out a bark of laughter, the harsh sound cracking the silence of the night. That was a new theory of him that he hadn’t thought of. 

Carefully making his way through the walls, Brahms paused, his ears straining for signs of movement, before pushing forward to his desired destination. Her bedroom.

He watched Sarah from behind the walls for some time before slipping out and seating himself in the corner of the room. Brahms found her utterly fascinating. The woman was a walking puzzle – a natural submissive but with an inner strength.  
He tilted his head to the side, taking in the gentle curves and contours of her body in the faint moonlight. She was so trusting, so naïve that he still could not believe it. _She definitely had some sort of sheltered childhood..._ Brahms froze as she tossed in her sleep, a small paperback book falling to the floor with a soft thud. 

He held his breath for a few seconds before rising and slowly walking over to where the book had fallen to the floor. Intrigued, he picked it up and flipped to the cover. _Interesting…_  
It was a romance novel, the cover displaying the strong, muscular body of a man, but not his face. Obviously, it was a favourite of hers, with the cover slightly worn and pages a little damaged here and there. Flipping open the book, he read the page she stopped at, eyebrows slightly raised at the content.  
_Kinky, Little Sarah…_

**\-------------------------------**

_His hands pinned hers to her sides as he leant forward to whisper in her ear. “I finally caught you,” he rasped. His breath fell harshly on her ears, making her shiver. She feebly twisted in his grasp, half-heartedly trying to break free as he dragged her to the bed bathed in the moonlight, before standing behind her._

_“No…” she whimpered, as his hands roughly cupped her breasts and began kneading the tender flesh through her thin chemise._

_He flashed his teeth at her in a menacing smile. “No?” A large hand snaked down her front, only to dip behind the lace of her underwear and slip lower. His other hand fisted in her hair and tugged her head to the side, revealing the delicate skin of her neck. “But you’re already swollen and wet for me,” he said hotly, before biting down on her soft skin. Sarah let out a small cry and bucked at his touch, pushing her ass firmly into his growing erection._

_Ripping the lace of her panties and tossing the scraps to the side, he growled. “You’re already mine!” Roughly shoving her, Sarah stumbled forwards and fell onto the bed. Before she could rise, he flipped her onto her back and straddled her hips, the glint of a blade barely registering in the back of her mind._

_With shocking speed, he cut her chemise down the middle before parting the fabric and exposing her to his gaze. Callused hands cupped her soft flesh before deft fingers pinched her nipples. Sarah closed her eyes and opened her mouth to let out a soft cry, only to have his lips seal over hers in a deep kiss. When her eyes fluttered open, she was shocked to find him naked above her, his erection jutting out, demanding her full attention._

_Her mouth went dry. He wasn’t going to fit in her!_

_Before she could speak, his mouth was on hers again, his hips nestled between her legs and the length of his cock pressed against her core. Sarah instinctively bucked her hips again, moaning into his mouth at the sensation.  
His hands went down to her hips, pressing them down into the soft mattress as he lined himself up with her entrance. A small thrust and the head slid in, spearing her – _

“Brahms!” Sarah woke with a start, her muscles heavy and a dull throb between her legs. Groaning, she stretched and slightly twisted her hips to the side, enjoying the small arc of pleasure that shot through her and coiled tightly in her abdomen. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, her nipples hard and she was slightly panting. 

It was that goddamn book’s fault. 

Let out a small cry of frustration, she hopped out of bed and into the shower. Face beet red with embarrassment, Sarah let the hot water wash away her mortification, pelting her skin as she stood there with her face covered by her hands. Changing into a skirt and a blouse, she made her way to the kitchen to begin breakfast, forcing herself to think of something else. Something like the conversation they previously had.  
It had only been a day since, what she liked to refer to as, the Fireplace Confession. To say that she was wanting to know more, would be the understatement of the century. She was _itching_ to know everything. And a small part of her wanted to chip away at Brahms’ defences and expose all the deep, dark secrets within – just so that she would know what made him tick. 

Shuffling through the pantry, she pulled out the relevant ingredients only to turn around and find that she wasn’t alone. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Great. Just who she needed to see right now. The very man who was a main character in her erotic dream. Sarah felt herself flush and hurriedly turned away from him. 

“Good morning, Sarah,” he drawled. “Did you sleep well?” 

Sarah whipped around in shock. _He didn’t know, did he?!_ She eyed him warily. “…No.” 

He arched a brow at her. “Oh? You didn’t have an… unpleasant… dream did you?” Brahms smirked inwardly at the lovely shade of red she turned. He had returned to the walls at the break of dawn, only to pause when she mewled in her sleep. He had watched the scene play out before him with a shocking mix of disbelief and lust. Sarah writhing in her sheets and calling out his name in her sleep was a memory he would never, ever, forget.

Her eyes widened slightly and her gaze shot to his. “No! I dreamt of nothing. That’s all!” She spun around and hastily buttered some toast. 

Brahms watched in amusement at her obvious internal conflict. Taking some pity on her, he brewed some tea for the two of them, and they ate in silence. She barely glanced over in his direction, an act that he noticed with some amount of smugness. _Ah.. she definitely enjoyed that little dream of hers._ A slight flush coloured her cheeks and her breathing was slightly off. If he was a gentleman, he would take his cue from hers and leave her be. 

But he was not. 

“You know,” he began, “I had a rather pleasant dream last night.” His tone dipped, voice coming out low and silky. “Would you like to hear it?” 

Sarah shook her head warily, unsure of the direction of the conversation. 

“Oh?” he inquired, politely. “It was a rather interesting one. Are you sure I can’t interest you?” Casually sipping at his tea, Brahms gazed at her over the rim of his cup. Watching her was fascinating. Her face maintained a blank façade, but her eyes… her eyes were so animated. So full of emotion. Right now, they sparkled with interest.  
Brahms inwardly snickered. She was obviously dying to know. _Quite the nosy little thing, isn’t she?_

Sarah chose to remain silent and focused on the wall behind him, trying to figure out why she felt as if he was toying with her. _It’s almost like he knows what sort of dream I had…_

Brahms set his cup down and pretended to sigh regretfully. “Well, it involved you.” Her eyes flicked back to his at those words, head slightly tilted to the side as if she was asking him for more. _Ah. Got her._ Slowly rising from his chair, Brahms made his way to her side and bent to whisper in her ear. “I’m sure you know what sort of dream I had, Little Sarah.” Rising, he smirked at the blush forming across her cute little face. 

Sarah jolted at the feel of his hot breath brushing her ear and made to stand up, only to feel him place his hands on her shoulders and push her back down in her seat. 

“Now, now,” he admonished, thumbs brushing light circles where his hands held her in place. “Don’t fight the inevitable.” He leant down again. “It’s only a matter of time before you’re beneath me, wet and writhing as I pump into you.” He punctuated his words with a small nip on the curve of her ear, before sauntering back to his seat. 

Had she been standing, Sarah would have crumpled to the floor at his words. Instead, she just sat there, trying to control herself and her emotions. Dizzying waves of arousal flowed through her – and just in reaction to his words. Imagine what the act itself would do to her? 

Suddenly, a wave of heat engulfed her entire body. Her. Beneath Brahms. “I-I’m going to go do some stuff,” she stammered, not meeting his gaze. She abruptly rose and practically bolted from the kitchen, her tea left forgotten in its cup. A short bark of masculine laughter followed her as she escaped. 

Hurrying up the stairs and down the corridor, Sarah turned her gaze heavenward and forced herself to calm down. _Focus, focus…huh. What’s that?_ A small hook was attached to the ceiling and for the life of her, Sarah couldn’t figure out how she failed to notice it. She searched around, looking for something to pull it down with. “Ah!” Picking up the wooden pole, she hooked it and yanked on the handle. A small ladder shot out of the ceiling, narrowly missing her by a few inches. Sarah gaped up into the barely lit space. _Aahh. Looks like I found the attic._

Hand gripping the sides of the ladder, she slowly made her way up into the darkness. 


	13. Puzzle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I apologise for this taking so long  
> (^.^);

If she was being completely honest with herself, the attic was…eerie; dimly lit, with a few dust motes visibly dancing in the sunlight coming through from the window. _Not where I would want to be in at night._ Sarah squinted as she waited for her vision to adjust to her sparsely lit surroundings. Random items, most probably forgotten, lay haphazardly strewn throughout the room. A small bicycle, a birdcage, boxes here and there, and even a clothed, headless mannequin stood disconcertingly in a corner. 

Making her way through the room, she stopped to have a look at what seemed to be a photo album. Curiously, she flipped through the pages, pausing only to admire the photos of who she could only imagine to be Brahms as a little boy. _What a solemn looking child._ Her brow furrowed as she delved deeper into the album. Not a single smile was on his face in any of the photos. 

A single picture slid out from between the pages to fall onto Sarah’s lap. She picked it up, scrutinizing the image. Brahms stood near a little blonde girl, roughly his age, the disinterest clearly visible in his eyes even though he wasn’t looking at the camera. She flipped the photo over and read the caption. “Brahms and Emily,” she murmured, placing the photo back between the pages before closing the album with a small definitive shut. Her gut twisted slightly, instinct telling her that this was the same Emily that Brahms supposedly killed. 

“Find what you were looking for, Sarah?” 

Sarah yelped and dropped the album in its box, freezing in place as she locked gazes with Brahms. He blended in with the shadows, eyes glittering in the poorly lit room. _How the fudge did I not hear him come up here?_ His gaze sharpened at her lack of response. “Sarah?” His tone warned her that he won’t be repeating the question for a third time.

“I was just exploring and found the album,” she explained softly. _No point in lying. Only God knows how long he has been standing there, watching me flip through the photos._

“Good girls don’t rummage through other people’s things.” His tone was low, yet the warning was clear. Don’t. Touch. Anything.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave now.” She hurried past him and made her way down the ladder. Brahms followed suit, pausing at the base of the ladder. 

“Stop.”

Sarah froze and turned to face him. He reached out and tapped at the ladder’s wooden rungs. The entire framework folded in on itself and slammed shut with a bang, making her flinch at the sound. 

“Don’t go up into the attic,” he warned. She nodded slowly, gulping as he slowly made his way to where she was standing stock still. Brahms reached out and brushed away an errant strand of hair from the side of her face. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”  
Flashing him a weak smile, Sarah slowly pulled away from his touch and mumbled her thanks before hastily escaping downstairs. 

Brahms sighed and raked a hand through his hair in exasperation. He knew he was running hot and cold with his emotions and reactions. He just…it just came out in bursts at times, but he was working on controlling them. He padded to the study and shut the door behind him, before making his way to the desk and grabbing a small key. Unlocking the drawer, he pulled out a letter and stared blankly at the message.

> Our Dearest Son,  
>  Words cannot describe our heartbreak as we leave you now.  
>  We will not be back. We simply cannot bear to live with what we have allowed you to become.  
>  The girl is yours now. She is yours to love and care for.
> 
> May God forgive us all.
> 
> Love always,  
>  Mummy & Daddy XX 

He reached out and poured himself a glass of whiskey, only to put it down as he heard a loud knock on the front door.  
Silently making his way, to the corridor he strained to hear the muted voices coming from downstairs. Sarah and…. He frowned.  
 _Alastair._

**\---------------------------**

Sarah was tidying up the kitchen when she heard the knock on the door. Warily opening it, she peeked around the corner, trying to discern who it was. A smile spread over her face and she opened the door fully. “Alastair! How’s it going?”

Returning her grin, Alastair made his way in with a box of groceries, shutting the door behind him. “You’re really not from around here, are you?” he teased. “People here ask questions such as ‘How are you?’” He let out a small bark of laughter at her sheepish grin and slight blush on her cheeks. “Don’t worry. It’s a good change of pace.” 

Sarah followed him to the kitchen and began to unpack the items, brow furrowing in concentration. She was so wrapped up in what she was doing that she failed to notice Alastair asking her a question. “Huh? What?”

Alastair tilted his head in curiosity. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Making a small shooing motion, Sarah smiled. “I’m afraid it’s rather dreary.”

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” he coaxed. 

She sighed. “I found a photo of Brahms and Emily.”

“And?”

“And I want to know what exactly happened.” 

“You already know the story though. He killed Emily and then died in a fire that same day.”

“I find it hard to believe that a nine-year-old boy killed a little girl,” Sarah said dryly. “There has to be something that’s missing from the story.” Memories of Brahms struggling to tell her exactly what happened filled her with a multitude of emotions. Pity, dread, melancholy...

“You’re quite the curious little thing, aren’t you?” Alastair smirked. “Why all this interest in an event that happened two decades ago?”

Sarah smiled sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders. “I just want to know. I’m quite nosy in that regard. But also, something feels a little off.”

Alastair’s eyebrows rose a little. “You feel it?” He laughed sceptically. “Brahms was an odd child. There was no doubt about it. Everyone in this small town knew about it.”

“Yeah, but odd in what way?” she countered. “His interests could have been slightly different from everyone else, but that doesn’t make a person odd. It just defines who they are. What makes them unique.”

Alastair raised his hands in a show of defeat. “Alright, alright. If I come across anything, I’ll let you know, Sherlock.” 

Sarah made a face at him. “I appreciate it, Watson.”

“Well, I’d better leave. Duty calls.” 

Sarah walked him to the door. Halfway to his van, he turned around and called out. “You know, my offer for the movie still stands.” 

Laughing, Sarah waved at him. “Hmm, maybe one day. Bye!” Flashing him one last grin, Sarah shut the door and inwardly sighed. _I really want to watch a movie though…_ Back home, she used to love going to the cinemas and keeping up with the latest films. But now, she couldn’t even leave the house. She scowled at the carpet, frustration levels slowly rising. _I’m literally looking after him like a… like a BABYSITTER and I can’t even go out to watch a single movie._

Fuming, she stormed into the kitchen and began to prep for lunch. _Calm down, Sarah, calm down._ It would be counterproductive for her to lose her temper with him. From what she’s gathered, Brahms could be volatile if rubbed the wrong way. And that was something that she did not want directed at her. 

_Maybe I could poke around and look for a TV or something._ She perked up slightly at the thought. With all the adjusting she had done regarding her current situation, she didn’t think about such a simple solution. Placing the prepped food in the fridge, she made herself a cup of tea and walked about the manor, trying to find its elusive master. 

However, Brahms was nowhere to be found. It was almost…disappointing. She made a sound of exasperation and looked down into her cup of tea. Perhaps he was sulking? She got the feeling that he didn’t like her talking with Alastair. Sarah scoffed at herself. _Yeah genius. Did you figure that one out when he declared that you belonged to him after your first interaction with Alastair? Or did the penny drop after he bent you over the counter and pinned you on the marble?_

She unsteadily swirled the dregs of her tea before downing a gulp of the warm liquid, her mind drifting back to his attempt at talking to her. 

Sarah padded softly over to the couch in the study, feet curling up comfortably next to her as she drank her tea and organised her thoughts. He said that he had been burned, and not accidentally. That he had killed someone. Her brow furrowed slightly and she stared into her cup. He was most probably referring to Emily Cribbs. But what would prompt a ten-year-old boy to kill a little girl? She inhaled sharply. Maybe, he was different in a more…sinister way? 

She shook her head violently at the thought. No. Brahms was no….monster. He had multiple opportunities to hurt her but he did not. She scanned the room, gaze narrowing at the whiskey glass on the desk. There was still a small amount of alcohol in it. He was here. 

Placing her cup on the desk, Sarah called out. “Brahms?” 

No answer.

“Brahms?”

Complete silence greeted her.

“Well fine then,” she muttered, “It’s not like I wanted to talk to you either.” She grabbed her teacup and irritably gulped the remaining liquid down, while turning around. 

A dark figure stood motionless at the entrance of the study.

Sarah choked on the tea, fear spreading through her body like ice, as she stumbled back gasping for air. “B-Brahms?” she bit out, coughing up the liquid that went down her windpipe. 

The man in question stepped into the light, shadows melting off his lean silhouette. He remained silent as he stalked towards her. 

“You need to stop that!” she cried out. “It’s not funny! I could have gotten hurt!” 

“But you didn’t,” he murmured. 

“Just don’t,” she hissed at him. “I absolutely hate it.”

He feigned innocence. “Oh? Hate it in the same manner I hate it when you flirt with Alastair?”

Sarah flashed him a scowl. “I do not flirt with Alastair.”

“Oh, but you do. Dangling the promise of going out with him to see a movie. Never actually declining him outright, but just moving the reward a little further each time he almost snatches it up?” Each word of his was accompanied with a step forward until he was only a few centimeters away from her person. 

Sarah flushed at his words, seeing the truth in them, but chose to remain silent so as not to antagonise him further. She never actually said no did she? Truth be told, she was slightly flattered that Alastair seemed to be mildly interested in her. 

Brahms clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You’re actually a bad girl, aren’t you?” He leant down, to talk softly into her ear. “You think I haven’t noticed that you’re not keeping your promise?” 

Sarah glanced down at the carpet, shame flooding her as his words echoed in her head. _“I want a proper kiss from now on.”_  
“B-but, I don’t know how…” she trailed off lamely and stared at the floor. _Is it possible to die of embarrassment?_

Before she could say anything else, his hand fisted at the nape of her neck and tipped her head back. Brahms’ lips covered hers and she made a sound of shock before freezing in place. His hand buried in her hair and the hand at her back steeled itself, offering her no escape. All she could do was stand there as his lips continued with their soft assault and for some baffling reason she found herself closing her eyes, trying to mimic his movements. 

“Mmmm mm,” she moaned, equal parts of confusion and pleasure in the sound. 

His tongue licked at the seam of her lips, teasing. Her hands fisted in his black sweater, desperately trying to get a grip on reality. She could feel her heart-rate, practically hear it beating out of her chest. Sarah mewled into his mouth as his tongue slipped in and mimicked the movements of sex. The hand at her back pressed her closer to him, allowing her to feel his growing desire. His lips left hers, only to trail down her neck and suck at the delicate skin. Sarah let out a plaintive wail at the loss, only to let out a soft whimper at him marking her skin. 

Brahms captured her lips again, lightly nibbling at her lower lip before slipping his tongue in again to deepen the kiss. The hand in her hair slid lower, to cup a breast and squeeze at the sensitive flesh. She jerked against him, hips pressing against his as she gasped into his mouth. He groaned inwardly at her inexperienced way of kissing, promising himself that when the time comes, he would only sink into her after she begged for it. 

She broke the kiss, gasping as she fought to regain her senses. She stared up at him, her mind blank and still in his arms.

“That is how you kiss,” he said, voice tinged with male satisfaction as he gazed into her lust-clouded eyes. Her face was beautifully flushed and her lips were deep red and slightly swollen. He leant down and gently brushed his lips over hers. “No more excuses,” he whispered. 

Giving her lower lip one last nip, he sauntered out of the room and closed the door with a definite click, leaving her mind reeling at what just happened.


	14. Cabin Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the lengthy disappearance. My university papers are quite intense which is why I was incognito for such a long time.  
> Without further ado, enjoy the new chapter! It's fairly short, but that's because I want to have more content to play around within the next chapter ;)  
> ~~ And as always, thanks for the support \\(^o^)/

Sighing wistfully, Sarah put down the romance novel she was reading and stretched. _If only such fantastic things happened in real life._ She glanced down at the slightly worn cover. The book was one of her all-time favourites, about a time travelling Scottish druid and his mission to rid himself of the evil contained within him. She bit her lip and pushed away a lock of hair from her eyes, trying to rid herself of the longing growing in her. 

_Find a distraction._

Absentmindedly stirring her hot chocolate, Sarah let her gaze drift over to the window. The weather itself was dull and grey, threatening to rain heavily, but she had the urge to just yank open the front door and run. Even though she had promised not to, each day the urge to just leave the damned house grew stronger and stronger. She was, to say the least, absolutely fed up with being under what could be considered house arrest.  
_And I didn’t even commit a crime to deserve this punishment._ She snickered into her cup, her glasses slightly fogging up from the heat of the drink. Each day was a constant reminder of her lack of freedom – an aspect that was slowly eating away at her patience.

Brahms may distract her with his… knee-weakening kisses every day, but the distraction was only temporary.  
A day. Just a day of not being in the house would be amazing. Back home, she loved going to the malls and just walking around, a caramel latte clutched in a hand. It was simple, but she enjoyed it. She enjoyed the freedom that should have been rightfully hers from the start. Looking down into her cup, she frowned. 

Her parents weren’t exactly…. Parental material. The strict, rigid upbringing she had left her miserable as an adolescent. When she was finally old enough to leave, she walked out and never looked back. A soft empty laugh broke the silence. _Not that they cared enough to stop me…_

As if on cue, the first crack of thunder signalled the heavy downpour to follow. Rain hammered the ground and the skies turned a dark grey. Taking the now empty cup, Sarah made her way to the kitchen, her socks muffling the sound of her steps on the wooden floors. The house itself was silent, no sign of its master in sight. 

_Go figure,_ she thought bitterly. _He gets to come and go as he pleases yet I am a caged toy._

On a whim, she changed directions and headed for the front door. Setting her cup on the floor, she opened one of the doors, cold air rushing in as she settled on the floor and just… stared at the falling rain. She wasn’t going to break her promise. She couldn’t. She could still hear the anguish in his voice from that day she tried to escape. 

She didn’t want to hurt him again.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------

Brahms watched silently from the shadows as Sarah opened the front door, rage building in him with each second that passed. _She lied! She’s going to leave me!_  
The darker, more sinister part of him taunted him with his more perverse desires. _Bind her. Tie her to your bed. Make her scream beneath you as you remind her who she belongs to._

_MAKE. HER. YOURS._

Eyes darkening with rage, he silently made his way to her, fully prepared for a fight as he dragged her to his room in the walls. However, what she did next had him stop in his tracks. She simply sat on the floor and watched the rain, a sad look on her face.  
A slight pang shot through his chest at the sight. She wasn’t leaving him. Even more so, she was keeping her promise. Standing a few meters behind her, he engraved in his mind the sight of her silhouette framed in the doorway as sparks of lightning lit the dark skies in front of her. It made her seem so alone. Isolated, even. 

His gaze sharpened when he spied the outline of a small black car slowly passing out front. 

“Sarah. Close the door.”

She started at the sound of his voice but rose and complied, her mug forgotten on the floor. “I was just watching the rain. I didn’t go outside, I promise,” she hastily explained. 

He stared at her for a moment. _Maybe now would be a good time._ “Come. It’s a surprise.”

The girl eyed him curiously, head tilted to the side. What could he possibly surprise her with? The man knew nothing of her tastes, aside from when she nervously babbled about things like Italian food and daydreaming. 

“Sarah.”

“Yes! Coming.”

She followed him from behind, noting the predatory way he walked. Sleek, silently executed movements. Like a hunter. It betrayed the strength held in his lean form. Sarah inwardly sighed and looked away. 

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” The command was soft, yet broke no room for argument. Gently taking hold of her hands, Brahms led her through the doors of the living room. Reluctantly letting go of her soft hands, he stood behind her, hands holding her in place at her waist as he bent to softly speak into her ear. “Open them.”

Sarah shivered at the rough sound of his voice before following. Brows furrowing, she scanned the room trying to determine what the surprise was supposed to be. The lounge suite, plush carpeting, a coffee table, the TV... wait. What? The TV? Opposite the sofas stood a large black flatscreen TV, complete with a speaker, Bluray and DVD setup. She let out a gasp of joy and spun around to face him. “You got a TV?!” Sarah flashed him a big smile before wrapping her arms around him and pressing close. “It’s wonderful! Thank you so much,” she mumbled softly into his chest. 

Startled at her reaction, Brahms froze for a minute before returning the embrace. The feel of her soft body pressing into his, her soft feminine scent filling his lungs…he basked in the moment, burying his face in her hair. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“Like it? I love it! I can show you my favourite movies, we can have marathons, it's going to be fun!” 

Lifting his face from her hair, he looked at her. “Feel free to order them as you please. Just have them delivered by Alastair. No exceptions.” 

“Deal.” She started to loosen her hold on him but halted when his arms tightened around her. “Brahms?”

“Wait a moment.” 

They stood there for some time, holding each other as the storm continued outside. A particularly loud and unexpected crack of thunder had her jerk in his arms and tighten around him reflexively. Brahms let out a deep chuckle and leaned back slightly. “Does the sound of thunder scare you?”

“Only when I’m caught off guard,” she replied sheepishly. “Let’s watch a movie tonight?” The excitement in her tone was palpable. 

“I would say yes, but we have none.” 

Sarah pouted slightly. “Aw.”

He looked at her, an idea rapidly forming. “Actually, I think I have one. Though it may not be one you would have an interest in…” He pretended to let his voice trail off dejectedly. _Will she take the bait?_

Eyes sparkling at the opportunity, Sarah enthusiastically nodded her head. “Yes! Anything!”

_Caught you._ Smirking inwardly, Brahms flashed her a small smile. “I’ll have a look around for it.”

“I’ll go and make some snacks.” She let go of him and hurried to the kitchen, happily humming along the way.

Brahms watched her disappear down the hall before letting out a soft laugh. Her naivety would get her in trouble one day. Pushing on a wooden panel, he slipped into the walls in search of his source of….entertainment for the evening.


	15. Entertainment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies for how late this chapter is.  
> I was in the second half of my semester which meant many assignments and a splash of final exams (ノ ゜口゜)ノ  
> But, it's finally here!!! :D

The sound of popping kernels filled the air along with the scent of freshly made popcorn. Sarah transferred the popcorn to a large serving bowl and set it aside while she cleared up the kitchen - she was not looking forward to doing the dishes after watching a movie. “Brahms?” 

The man in question, slipped into the kitchen, making no sound as per usual. “Yes?”

“What would you like to drink?”

He regarded her thoughtfully for a minute. “A coffee, please.”

Sarah widened her eyes slightly. “Coffee? At 9pm? Won’t you have trouble sleeping?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Ooo-kay.” She turned to make his drink but halted at his next words.

“Allow me,” he murmured. “What about yourself?”

“Hot chocolate, thanks.” She flashed him a smile and placed her hand on his upper arm, giving him a light squeeze. “Thanks for the help! I’ll just finish clearing up here and then we can relax.” Regrettably, she moved her soft hand away, leaving Brahms longing for more as he watched her from his peripheries. 

Sarah turned and grinned. “Done! But I just want to change into my pyjamas. Be right back.” Brahms eyed her retreating figure as she made her way up the stairs, praying to the heavens that she chose another seductive piece from her collection. She had an affinity for pastel silks with delicate lacework. Perhaps she enjoyed feeling the delicate fabric slide over her skin as she tossed and turned in her bed. Lord knows he would enjoy the feel of it moving over her soft, warm skin as he divested her of the garment.  
The sound of soft footsteps brought him out of his reverie as she seemingly materialised out of nowhere, white silk framing her figure. Brahms felt his heartrate quicken at the sight. She looked so… pure. The thin straps of the dress rested on her shoulders in two mere bows preventing the entire garment from sliding off her frame into a puddle on the floor. 

He swallowed thickly. _She’s playing a dangerous game._

Sarah nervously fidgeted with the hem of her chemise as she made her way to the popcorn. She could feel his eyes burning into her, as if he could see what was underneath. It was the most modest pyjama set that she owned, falling mid-thigh instead of her usual barely-covering-anything ensemble. “I’m ready.” Grabbing the bowl of popcorn, she sped out of the kitchen and into the living room. Stifling laughter at her reaction, Brahms followed suit, a mug in each hand. 

Sarah put off the lights save for a small lamp in the far corner. They both settled on the sofa in front of the TV, Sarah leaning against the armrest at one end and Brahms at the other. Mentally frowning at the distance she put between the two of them, he grabbed his coffee.

Curling her legs below herself on the soft cushions, she reached for a handful of popcorn. “What movie did you have?”

“Bram Stokers Dracula.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of that one. Gary Oldman right? Is it scary? I love horror movies even though I usually can’t sleep after watching them.” 

Hiding his smirk behind a sip of coffee, Brahms made a mental note to make the next movie he picked a horror before he turned to her. “He’s the best Dracula in my opinion. But to answer your question, no. It’s not particularly frightening, it’s a gothic horror and not a traditional horror. I’m guessing you’re the type that prefers the supernatural genre more than anything else.”

Sarah tilted her head to the side. “How did you know that?”

He gave a small shrug. “You’re a kind woman,” he stated simply.

Sarah flushed at his words, slightly confused at the answer. Her, kind? What did that have to do with her movie preferences? She stared at him, eyes urging him to explain exactly what he meant.

Brahms sighed. “Let’s just put the film on.” He reached for the remote and hit play, the screen lighting up.

_Ok. I guess that’s the end of that conversation._ Taking her cue, she quietly ate some popcorn as the scene played out. Vlad appeared onscreen, imposing in his red suit of armor, before passionately kissing his wife. Oh wow. The scene had her stomach flutter slightly and she shifted on the couch. 

Paying more attention to Sarah than the movie itself, Brahms commended himself on his movie choice. If she’s already affected by such a mild kiss scene so early into the movie, he was highly anticipating her reactions later.  
Jealousy filled him at her reaction to Keanu Reeves appearing on scene. She gave a small smile and a soft sigh. A crack of thunder sounded and lightning flashed outside, illuminating the living room. Sarah jerked at the unexpected sound and shot a quick glance at Brahms. She was shocked to find that he was watching her. “Sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly. 

To her surprise, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards him. Even though he did not say a word, his intent was clear. He wanted her closer. Awkwardly shuffling along the couch, she settled directly next to him and placed her feet on the floor, unsure of exactly how close he wanted her. His hand settled near her knee, thumb gently rubbing circles into her soft flesh. 

If she was being honest with herself, it felt rather good. Heart racing slightly, Sarah forced herself to focus on the film, choosing not to question his actions. Jonathan was wandering around the castle after explicitly being told not to. _Of course_ , she internally scoffed. Her eyes widened when the scene changed and the three Brides of Dracula appeared, topless and hell-bent on seducing the white knight before feasting on his blood. Moans and sighs of pleasure filled the living room as the sensual scene unfolded in front of her.

She nervously tucked an errant curl behind her ear as the scene changed to a more sinister setting. Sarah took a sip of her hot chocolate in a desperate attempt to calm herself. _Perhaps watching this movie with Brahms was a bad idea._ Admittedly, she felt utterly perplexed by the film. The melding of the sensual and dark themes left her feeling incredibly aroused yet confused. Mentally shaking her head, she tried once again to focus on the plot. _Why those beautiful women would let a white-as-death, wrinkly old man near them is beyond me….Maybe he used a thrall of sorts?_ She sighed. All she needed to do was focus on the film and not pick apart the framework of the film. 

Eyeing Sarah from the corner of his eye, Brahms subtly shift his hand higher up her thigh. The heat of her could be felt through the thin material of her chemise. This movie had an incredible effect on her – more than he had hoped. He heard every gasp, every small sigh and felt every twitch of her muscles when the more seductive scenes appeared. Clearly, she was aroused as well. 

Turning his head slightly, he watched her as the movie played. Lips slightly parted and chest moving up and down more than usual – she was caught in the seductive web that the movie weaved. The sounds of a storm emanated from the TV. His gaze shifted momentarily to the screen. Perfect. He was looking forward to her reaction.

Sarah tilted her head to the side slightly as Mina and Lucy kissed in the rain. Shrugging it aside, she curled her legs back beneath her, the act having her lean slightly into Brahms. Relaxing against his side, she sighed softly and watched as the ship carried Dracula across the seas while dramatic music played in the background. Brahms’ hand moved from her thigh and draped around her shoulders and under her arm, his hand directly below her breast. Jolting at the change, she made to move but halted at his command.

“Stay.” His tone left no room for argument. 

Warily, she settled back in place, forcing herself to relax as he splayed his fingers, the long digits cupping her soft flesh. Sarah stared wide eyed at the screen, unsure of what exactly was happening but valiantly trying to focus on the scene. Lucy lay beneath the Count as he had sex with her before sinking his fangs in her neck. “Ohhh!” The unexpected moan caused her to freeze as she realised it came from her. 

Brahms flashed her a small smirk. “Enjoying the movie, hm?”

“Y-yes.” Her reply was slightly more breathless than she would have preferred. And was she enjoying the movie? Or was she enjoying the way his deft fingers gently pressed into her breast? She shivered slightly. 

“Mm. Good.” 

To her surprise, and mild disappointment, Brahms did nothing more. She just curled up next to him, his heat seeping into her frame and the hand that was on her breast had moved to rest possessively on her upper thigh. A soft sigh escaped her inadvertently as Brahms briefly tightened his grasp on her. _Mnn, this feels soo good…_ She wiggled her hips slightly and shifted focus back to the film. Tears filled her eyes as the final scene played out, Vlad finally finding peace and reuniting with his beloved. The credits rolled while they just remained on the couch, enjoying the feel of each other. 

Brahms was the first to break the silence. “What did you think?”

“It was cheesy, but I kind of liked it.” She flashed him a small smile. “Again, thank you,” she said softly.  
She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity but in reality, it was only a couple of seconds before she tilted her head back slightly and placed a small kiss on the side of his mouth. Withdrawing, she stared at her legs, highly aware of what she just did and how it drastically increased her heartrate. She clenched her eyes shut in her embarrassment. 

Shocked yet grateful at the unexpected opportunity that just presented itself, Brahms took this precise moment to brush his thumb over her nipple, a jolt of electricity running through her and to her core. Her eyes flew open at the stimulation. “Ahn!” Sarah moaned slightly thrust her chest out, a silent plea for more. She turned to look at him and to her shock she found him staring straight at her. His gaze was dark, intense. His fingers returned to lightly brush over the sensitive peak again making Sarah mewl and shift her hips restlessly. “Please,” she whispered, unsure of what exactly she wanted. Her emotions were confusing, new… and to a degree, they frightened her. 

A rough sound escaped him at her plea. With speed that shocked her, Brahms pushed her flat on the couch before sealing his lips over hers in a deep, wet kiss. Sarah whined beneath him, wriggling as his tongue slipped into her mouth. His tongue duelled with hers, seeking dominance and quickly gaining it. His hands tugged at her chemise, pushing it up and past her hips before he settled himself between her legs, pressing her into the soft cushioning. Her small hands urgently clutched at his back, trying to pull him closer.

Sarah broke the kiss, panting as she desperately sucked in air before he captured her lips again, a warning growl leaving his throat. His hands slid under her chemise, the roughness a contrast to the delicate skin covering her breasts. She shuddered underneath him when he flicked her nipple and moaned into his mouth when he pinched them both, her hips jerking into his.

_More. I need MORE._ Brahms was on the verge of ripping off her garments and filling her snug heat with his thickness. Her could smell her arousal and knew without a doubt that if he slid his hand between her delicious thighs and beneath the flimsy scrap of material covering her, his fingers would be slick. Breaking the kiss, he stared down at her only to utter a harsh command. “Wrap your legs around me.” 

To his delight, she hastily complied and he rewarded her with a rough thrust before grinding his cock between her legs. “You want this, don’t you?” His eyes glittered dangerously, daring her to lie. 

“Y-yes!” she gasped, biting her lip. 

“Good girl.” He bent to kiss her again, but halted when an unexpected scene from the movie they just watched flitted through his thoughts.

_The luckiest man who walks on this earth, is the one who finds true love._

Brahms stiffened as the words replayed over in his mind. 

_Love…_

He focused his gaze on Sarah. Did he want her to love him? 

The woman in question currently stared up at him, confusion slowly building behind her eyes.  
He thought back to how she refused to leave, when the opportunity presented itself for a second time. How she wasn’t against showing him kindness and gratitude for the small things he did for her. How she never tried to physically hurt him, like what Greta and countless others have done. 

Yes. He did want her to fall in love with him. 

He bent and kissed her softly on the lips, tongue sliding between her lips once more. It was the type of kiss you give to the one person you cherish the most in the world. He felt her sigh and her legs tightening around him at the change in pace. Nibbling at her lower lip, he whispered, “Not today, Darling.”

Reluctantly withdrawing from her warm embrace, Brahms rose and pulled Sarah up as well. “Go to bed.”

“Brahms?” Sarah reached out for him but stopped when she saw the expression on his face – bewilderment. 

Unsure of how to react, she pulled her hand back. “Ok, sleep well,” she whispered before hastily retreating to her room. 

A heavy sigh left him as Brahms ran a hand over his face. Preferring not to entertain the growing need to have her love him, he slipped out into the storm.


	16. Red and Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so: I know its been like 4 months. It's just that my university schedule this semester has been a hot mess, particularly with my clinical placement, so my time not spent doing essays meant I was too mentally exhausted to come up with a semi-plausible scenario/update for the story. ( >д<)
> 
> But your patience is greatly adored! (ﾉﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ
> 
> Happy Halloween! Stay safe and have fun out there :)

“I swear to God, James, the door was open and a girl sat in the doorway,” Rebecca protested.

James scoffed at her words, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to his whistling. Everyone in the area knew of the Heelshire Manor and its horrible tale. He grew up in the village a few kilometres out and the local kids spread rumours of how the son never actually died. “You know as well as I do, that place is off limits.” 

“But think of the kind of cash we could rake in, if we just grew a pair and went in.”

Sighing at the obvious bait Rebecca dangled before him, he shook his head. “That family was… odd. Sure, they came from old money, but you just don’t go poking around in the mess of such a household.” He may have been lacking in funds, but he didn’t lack common sense. That manor was eerie. He gave it a wide berth for as long as he could remember. 

Rebecca clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I know what I saw. There was a young girl. And it looked like there was someone standing behind her, too.” She frowned. “It looked like a man standing in the shadows.”

“And you could see all of this through the rain that’s currently drenching everything?” James asked incredulously. “I can barely see more than twenty meters ahead of the car! Why do you think I’m driving so damn slow?” 

Rebecca huffed in annoyance at his tone. “I know what I saw, ok?” Reaching out, she played with a lock of hair on the nape of his head. “Come on,” she whispered, “we can just do a bit of recon and if we see something we don’t like, we can disappear like nothing ever happened.” Her fingers lightly scrapped his scalp. “And if we dooo,” she sang out, “you know you won’t regret iiiiit.” 

“Recon? You’ve been watching too many movies.” 

“I just want to leave this shitty country with its shitty weather and lounge on a beach. I deserve nothing less!!” Rebecca snatched her hand away and stared angrily out the passenger window. 

_Goddamn Princess._ If he were being honest with himself, sometimes he regretted meeting her. She acted like a brat half the time, so he had developed the tendency to treat her as such.  
“Becca… Becca come on,” he cajoled. “You know the stories.”

“But I just want money,” she whined.

James raked a hand through his hair, sighing. It was just a simple scouting. Nothing he hadn’t done before. And he didn’t think he could handle another session of Becca sulking. The last time it happened, the silent treatment lasted nearly two weeks. He didn’t think he could handle having blue balls again. “Fine, we’ll scout it out first. But,” he warned, “if I see anything I don’t like, we’re leaving immediately. No questions asked. No whining. No silent treatment. Clear?”

She turned and beamed at him. “Crystal.” A small sound of happiness left her lips. “Pretty soon I’ll be sipping mimosas on a sandy beach.” Rebecca flashed him a leer. “Nude.” Her hand slid across his thigh onto the bulge that was growing fast beneath the denim of his jeans and gave him a light squeeze.

“Not while I’m driving,” he murmured, before glancing at her pout. “But once we reach the inn…well, I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination.”  
\----------------------------------------------

Alastair stared thoughtfully into his drink, unsure of what to do. Usually, he had no problem with women, but Sarah was proving to be a bit of a challenge. She turned down his offer to meet up and spend time together. Granted, she had to follow that ridiculous rule of not leaving the house, but his gut told him that there was something else afoot. Something that the innocent little kitten knew all about. Or at least, part of it. 

If he had to admit it, he found her friendly yet guarded nature rather attractive. It made him wonder just what she would be like when her walls fell. Staring out the tavern windows, he watched the downpour, squinting when a sudden pair of headlights broke through the night. The door burst open and a redhead sauntered in, followed by a man with black hair. They were both drenched, but it did nothing to take away from their good looks. _Talk about making an entrance._

He hadn’t seen the pair before, meaning that either they were just passing through and got caught in the storm, or they were visiting. And hardly anyone visited the countryside at this time of the year. Which often meant trouble. Inwardly sighing, he placed some cash next to his empty pint, grabbed his coat and made to leave. Well, tried to at least. Red blocked his way while her friend watched from the corner table. Annoyed but masking the emotion with politeness, he cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”

Alastair almost rolled his eyes at the large, fake smile she flashed him while twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Well, my friend and I were hoping you would have a place for us to spend a couple of nights in?” He could see right through her charade. This woman was used to not getting no for an answer. 

He almost grinned. It was going to be such a shame to disappoint her. 

“Unfortunately, no.” He was raised to always be polite. That is, until he no longer had to be. And this woman was testing his limits. 

Red pouted. “Aww. That’s a shame.” Turning to the bartender, she spoke up a bit. “Since James Blond here doesn’t have a room to spare, do you?” 

The bartender, Jeff, looked tiredly at the redhead. Her voice was rather annoying. High pitched and vapid. “One room? Or two?” 

“One room, please,” she said before winking at him. “Make sure it has a big bed.” Turning, she focused back on Alastair, placing a hand on his bicep. “You’re welcome to join,” she said coyly.

Alastair took a step back, repulsed at her behaviour. “No thanks. Three’s a crowd.” He didn’t like sharing his women. Ever. Dismissing her entirely, he looked over to Jeff and nodded. “Thanks. Have a good one.” 

Shrugging on his coat, he exited the tavern and dashed to his car, albeit still getting soaked in the process. Drumming the steering wheel, he wondered what he should do. He could head home and take a nice warm shower. Or…. He could head over to the manor and see if Sarah was ok. Grinning at his idea, he started up the car and drove along the long stretch of road.  
\----------------------------------------------

Brahms was just about to exit the forest when he heard the faint sound of an engine and turned to see a car pulling up the driveway. Halting, he stayed within the cover of the trees and watched with rising fury as Alastair exited the vehicle and hastily made his way up the stairs. 

_It’s pretty obvious what he’s after!_ Snarling with rage, he watched as Alastair knocked on the door and waited. He knocked again and waited for a minute, before turning to head down the stairs when he halted in his tracks. Brahms was about to smirk, but the it quickly morphed into in a scowl as he watched the front door slowly inch backwards and Alastair turn back around. After a few seconds of talking, he stepped in and the door closed behind him. 

Before he could even think of what he was doing, Brahms was already sprinting through the forest, towards the secret entrance that Greta had previously used to escape. Yanking open the metal door, he slipped through and locked it behind him. Removing his shoes, he walked barefoot through the walls, not making a sound as he tried to find Sarah, drops of water leaving a trail behind him. Muffled voices sounded, and Brahms strained to hear what was being said. It seemed like they were still at the front door. 

“Here. Dry yourself off with this towel.” Sarah’s soft voice could barely be heard through the walls. His eyes narrowed. _It should be me. I’m the one she should be offering the towel to._

“Thanks.” Soft footsteps followed as Alastair followed her to the kitchen. Brahms peered through the gaps between the wood, watching Sarah put on the kettle and grab a mug, preparing some tea for the unexpected guest. _More like uninvited…_ At least she had covered up before opening the front door. The white chemise, at present, was hidden under a long white dressing gown, it’s belt wrapped tightly around her and cinched in a small knot at the front. 

“What brings you here? It’s so late… Did something happen?” The concern in her tone was palpable as she stirred the tea before handing him the hot drink. 

Alastair cleared his throat, unsure of how to proceed. “Well…. I was just worried.”

“Worried?” She furrowed her brows at him. “About what?”

“It’s just that sometimes when there’s a storm like this, the manor loses power for a while. Usually until the Heelshires find someone to come in and fix it. It takes at least a day to accomplish.”

“I see. So you came all this way to check in on me?” She gave him a small smile. “Thank you very much, Alastair.”

Raking a hand through his wet hair, uncomfortable at his minor deception, he tried to change the topic. “I apologise for getting you out of bed though.”

She waved away his concern. “It’s fine. I wasn’t asleep yet anyway. The movie still has me buzzing.” She vaguely registered a small thump sound. 

“Movie? How? I wasn’t aware that the Heelshires had an entertainment system.” 

Sarah felt her eyes widen at her mistake the same time she heard the small thumping sound again. It came from….the wall? Immediately, she tried to backtrack. “Yeaahh. I found the stuff up in the attic when I went exploring the other day. It was such a shame to see them lying around gathering dust.”

Alastair grinned at her. “Well then. You have to show me what it looks like!”

The thump came again. Louder this time. Brahms… It was definitely a warning. She needed to wrap this up. “It’s in the living room.” Sarah practically ran to the living room to show him the set up. 

Letting out a low whistle, Alastair surveyed the scene before him. “This is a pretty decent set up. The Heelshires spared little expense.” He turned and gave her a wink. “You know what this means right?”

Sarah felt her heart pick up pace. “…No?” She struggled to keep her words even, not wanted to dampen his excitement or more importantly, reveal anything more. 

“If you can’t come with me to the movies, I’ll bring the movies to you!” 

“W-what?” she said weakly.

“Ah ah. No excuses. When I come over to deliver the groceries the next time, we can talk more about it.” He glanced at his watch. “But for now, I do have to leave.” Drinking the last bit of tea, he picked up the towel he had used. “I’ll bring this back all clean when I come with your delivery.” Walking closer towards her, he bent to whisper in her ear. “Don’t forget to call me if anything happens, ok?” Straightening, he strode towards the front door. “Have a good night, Sarah. Sleep well.” Flashing her one last dashing grin, he slipped back out into the torrent, the front door closing behind him with a definite click. 

Watching his tail lights fade into the distance, Sarah let out a sigh and turned around. _How am I going to deal with this, now?_ She closed her eyes and began mentally preparing herself to deal with Brahms. He most definitely knew what had just happened. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that those banging sounds weren’t from him. The timing was too in sync with what was being said. And she was 80% sure that the sound came from the wall. To be precise, from _inside_ the walls.  
Opening her eyes resigned to the consequences, she felt her heart drop.

Brahms stood in front of her. And he looked furious.

_Oh no._


End file.
